#death

Time moves on for us, for you it stands still. You will be forever ageless as we grow old, your smile will never wrinkle, nor will that shine in your eyes fade.. ↗

— Kendal Rob

#love #missing-you #death

Happiness is the change that comes over me when I describe the world It comes over the world Happiness is the change that comes over me when I'm afraid It comes over the world For instance I can be afraid of and for the world afraid because the world consists among other things of me so swiftly dying ↗

— Inger Christensen

#happiness #change

That kind of imagination is why we're not dead. ↗

— Rebecca McKinsey

#fantasy #imagination #life #survival #death

Did he die badly?" "Well..." "-Hey, so did my father! Our water was undrinkable for weeks. ↗

— Bauvard

#funny #humor #wells #death

Don't you have a religion?" Dorolow asked Horza. "Yes," he replied, not taking his eyes away from the screen on the wall above the end of the main mess-room table. "My survival." "So... your religion dies with you. How sad," Dorolow said, looking back from Horza to the screen. The Changer let the remark pass. ↗

— Iain Banks

#changer #death #dorolow #mess-room #religion

You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the Grim Reaper. ↗

— Robert Alton Harris

#life #death

As soon as someone dies, frenzied construction of the future (shifting furniture, etc.): futuromania. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#future #mourning #death

The necropolis has never seemed a city of death to me; I know its purple roses (which other people think so hideous) shelter hundreds of small animals and birds. The executions I have seen performed and have performed myself so often are no more than a trade, a butchery of human beings who are for the most part less innocent and less valuable than cattle. When I think of my own death, or the death of someone who has been kind to me, or even of the death of the sun, the image that comes to my mind is that of the nenuphar, with its glossy, pale leaves and azure flower. Under flower and leaves are black roots as fine and strong as hair, reaching down into the dark waters. ↗

— Gene Wolfe

#death

Better guilt than the terrible burden of freedom and responsibility. ↗

— Ernest Becker

#guilt #relationships #death

The Talmud tells a story about a great Rabbi who is dying, he has become a goses, but he cannot die because outside all his students are praying for him to live and this is distracting to his soul. His maidservant climbs to the roof of the hut where the Rabbi is dying and hurls a clay vessel to the ground. The sound diverts the students, who stop praying. In that moment, the Rabbi dies and his soul goes to heaven. The servant, too, the Talmud says, is guaranteed her place in the world to come. ↗

— Jonathan Rosen

#prayer #stories #talmud #death