#death

One thing I knew about the novelist’s task: when in doubt, write; when empty, write; when afraid, write. Nothing is more impenetrable than the blank page. The blank page is the void, the absence of sense and feeling, the white light of literary death. ↗

— Philip Sington

#death

How heron comes It is a negligence of the mind not to notice how at dusk heron comes to the pond and stands there in his death robes, perfect servant of the system, hungry, his eyes full of attention, his wings pure light ↗

— Mary Oliver

#nature #poetry #death

Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still. [...] ↗

— Edgar Allan Poe

#death

Your life experience is a moving picture, of which you are writer, director, performer, producer and critic. ↗

— T.F. Hodge

#director #experience #life #living #performer

The landscape is best described as 'pedestrian hostile.' It's pointless to try to take a walk, so I generally just stay in the room and think about shooting myself in the head. ↗

— David Sedaris

#hotels #humor #death

Love is like a flower. Its upright when its in harmony and withered when its dead. ↗

— Dalia

#happy #love #sad #death

And this evening when I close my eyes against the darkness and think about her, I'll imagine iridescent wings fluttering, if only for a moment, against cloudless blue skies. ↗

— Nancy Stephan

#grief #death

Religion doesn't just cloud our minds. It asks us to deliberately deceive ourselves-- to replace reason with its opposite, faith. And when men operate on faith, they can no longer be reasoned with, which makes them more dangerous than any sane man, good or evil. ↗

— James L. Sutter

#faith #reason #religion #death

I was having the surreal experience of having myself show myself around my office and bullpen.” “Oh! My desk. I could’ve sat at my desk. I could’ve sat at your desk.” “No.” “It’s a vid set.” “Even then, no. ↗

— J.D. Robb

#death

Sprawled out on the front lawn Looking up at an ordinary sky It could fall on me and somehow be The day I didn't die ↗

— Nick Burd

#poetry #death