#d

What if it's as simple as one moment? One tiny thing, like that kiss on the rocks? What if I'd kissed him a little longer? Would he be alive right now? Or what if I'd stayed with him Friday night, what if I'd been with him… wherever he was? ↗

— Kristina McBride

#grief #missing #what-if #death

Do you remember the sight we saw, my soul, that soft summer morning round a turning in the path, the disgusting carcass on a bed scattered with stones, its legs in the air like a woman in need burning its wedding poisons like a fountain with its rhythmic sobs, I could hear it clearly flowing with a long murmuring sound, but I touch my body in vain to find the wound. I am the vampire of my own heart, one of the great outcasts condemned to eternal laughter who can no longer smile. Am I dead? I must be dead. ↗

— Charles Baudelaire

#death #horror #murder #poetry #primal-scene

I'm going to see if Morris has a spare spine lying around you can borrow if you're scared to speak to that high-heeled, smug-ass bitch, Peabody. ↗

— J.D. Robb

#humour #peabody #death

If Death is your father, you don't ever have to worry about what part of his body the disease will strike next. If Death is your lover, you don't have to be afraid that he will ever leave you. ↗

— Francesca Lia Block

#death

Was there ever a war where only one side bled? ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#war #death

Lugh got born first. On Midwinter Day when the sun hangs low in the sky. Then me. Two hours later. That pretty much says it all. Lugh goes first, always first, an I follow on Behind. An that's fine. That's right. That's how it's meant to be. Because everthin'set. It's all fixed. The lives of everybody who's bin born. The lives of everybody still waitin'to be born. It was all set in the stars the moment the world began. The time of yer birthin, the time of yer death. Even what kinda person yer gonna be, good or bad. If you know how to read the stars, you can read the story of peoples'lives. The story of yer own life. What's gone, what's now an what's still to come. Back when Pa was a boy, he met up with a traveler, a man who knew many things. He learned Pa to read the stars. Panever says what he sees in the night sky but you can see it lays heavy on him. Because you cain't change what's written. Even if Pa was to say what he knew, even if he was to warn you, it would still come to pass. I see the way he looks at Lugh sometimes. The way he looks at me. An I wish he'd tell us what he knows. I believe Pa wishes he'd never met that traveler. If you seen me an Lugh togather, you'd never think we was the same blood. Never think we grew togather in the same womb. He's got gold hair. I got black. Blue eyes. Brown eyes. Strong. Scranwy. Beautiful. Ugly. He's my light. I'm his shadow. Lugh shines like the sun. That must of made it east fer them to find him. All they had to do was follow his light. ↗

— Moira Young

#lugh #saba #beauty

Applaud my friends, the comedy is over... [on his death bed] ↗

— Ludwig van Beethoven

#death

His voice, the very sound of rolling eyes. ↗

— Thomas Mullen

#death

He felt that he was still groping in the dark; he had chosen his path but kept looking back, wondering whether he had misread the signs, whether he should not have taken the other way. ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#decisions #doubts #death

I know only one thing. when i sleep, i know no fear, no, trouble no bliss. blessing on him who invented sleep. the common coin that purchases all things, the balance that levels shepherd and king, fool and wise man. there is only one bad thing about sound sleep. they say it closely resembles death. ↗

— Andrei Tarkovsky

#death