#de

All good New Orleanians go to look at the Mississippi at least once a day. At night it is like creeping into a dark bedroom to look at a sleeping child--something of that sort--gives you the same warm nice feeling, I mean. ↗

— Sherwood Anderson

#death

Eyes like streams of melting snow, Cold with the things she does not know, Heaven above and Hell benieth, Liquid flames to hold her grief, Death,Death, Death with no release ↗

— Kierston White

#death

What is love for, if not to intensify our affections—both in life and death? But, O, do not be bitter. It is tragically self-destructive to be bitter. ↗

— John Piper

#emotions #grief #death

There's something about you Anastasia, that calls to me on some deep level I don't understand. It's a siren's call. I can't resist you, and I don't want to lose you.... don't run, please - have a little faith in me and a little patience please ↗

— E.L. James

#faith

I once saw many flowers blooming Upon my way, in indolence I scorned to pick them in my going And passed in proud indifference. Now, when my grave is dug, they taunt me; Now, when I'm sick to death in pain, In mocking torment still they haunt me, Those fragrant blooms of my disdain. ↗

— Heinrich Heine

#flowers #illness #poetry #symbolism #death

I'll wait. By the way, sex-me-up shoes?" "I was following a theme." "Well." Reo turned her ankles, looked down. "They are pretty fabulous." "They are," Mira agreed. "I was going to say the same about yours. What a terrific color." "Could we not talk about shoes in the box that still smells of evildoer?" "You started it," Reo reminded her before she turned back to Mira. ↗

— J.D. Robb

#eve-dallas #in-death-series #jd-robb #reo #death

Relationship is thus always slavery of a kind, which leaves a residue of guilt. ↗

— Ernest Becker

#relationships #death

Heroes are damned. No mortal conquers Death. ↗

— Shan Sa

#death

We're the only ones left from those withered days. The last two leaves still clinging to the branch waiting to fall. Waiting for the wind to severe us into the sky. ↗

— Tan Twan Eng

#time #death

They call me the Angel of Death. ↗

— Moira Young

#death