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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #death
I’ve stripped my life down,” he told me. “I don’t need much. I have all the company I want to keep right in here.” He shot himself in the head with his fingers. “People don’t understand about the need to live simply. They make appointments all day. They even schedule their own deaths. The first time they’ll have freedom to really be themselves is when they no longer exist. But up here, there’s nothing but me and the sky. A million billion stars. ↗
He held her and rocked her, believing, rightly or wrongly, that Ellie wept for the very intractability of death, its imperviousness to argument or to a little girl’s tears; that she wept over its cruel unpredictability; and that she wept because of the human being’s wonderful, deadly ability to translate symbols into conclusions that were either fine and noble or blackly terrifying. If all those animals had died and been buried, then Church could die (any time!) and be buried; and if that could happen to Church, it could happen to her mother, her father, her baby brother. To herself. Death was a vague idea; the Pet Sematary was real. In the texture of those rude markers were truths which even a child’s hands could feel. ↗
That was on the pillar stone on Ynys Bainail," I said, indicating the carving. "What does it mean?" "It is Mor Cylch, the maze of life," Tegid told me. "It is trodden with just enough light to see the next step or two ahead, but not more. At each turn the soul must decide whether to journey on or whether to go back the way it came." "What if the soul does not journey on? What if it chooses to go back the way it came?" "Stagnation and death," replied Tegid with mild vehemence. He seemed irritated that anyone would consider retreating. "And if the soul travels on?" "It draws nearer its destination," the bard answered. "The ultimate destination of all souls is the Heart of the Heart. ↗
If you remembered somebody was as real as yourself, how could you kill anybody? ↗
#life #nonviolence #violence #death
So many people never pause long enough to make up their minds about basic issues of life and death. It's quite possible to go through your whole life, making the mechanical motions of living, adopting as your own sets of ideas you've come to any conslusion for yourself as to what life is all about. ↗
And life goes on, which seems kind of strange and cruel when you're watching someone die. But there's a joy and an abundance of everything, like information and laughter and summer weather and so many stories. My mother urges me to write them down because, "You're the last of the Markhams, my love." So I record dates and journeys and personalities and traits and heroes and losers and weaknesses and strengths and I try to capture every one of those people because one day I'll need what they had to offer. ↗
And then she turns to look at me with the same look in her eyes, and I melt the way I always do. I am the luckiest man in any world, a soul transformed, pulled back from the abyss and blessed with love more powerful than evil or death or time or space or any of the rules. "I love you," I whisper. She smiles. "Two thousand and twenty-four," she says, and then she kisses me. And it is still the best kiss. ↗
