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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #eat
Fear not the phantom of death, My Countrymen, for his greatness And mercy will refuse to approach Your smallness; and dread not the Dagger, for it will decline to be Lodged in your shallow hearts. ↗
You will die, and when you die, you will know a profound lack of it [dignity]. It's never dignified, always brutal. What's dignified about dying? It's never dignified. And in obscurity? Offensive. Dignity is an affectation, cute but eccentric, like learning French or collecting scarves. And it's fleeting and incredibly mercurial. And subjective. So fuck it. ↗
Like a cord between us, it binds me to you, where you go I must then follow. If you go too far, I am compelled to search for you until I find you. If I try to run, I would freeze in my own steps and be made to turn back. I am anything but free. I’m your slave. I intend to see this to its finality and end it.” He snickered then and let her go. “Til death do us part, Shade.” ~Ever Shade (A Dark Faerie Tale #1) ↗
Every second I spend waiting, Drags me closer to this grave. I'm not alone. No, I'm just on my own. ↗
#don-t-confess #grave #i-m-just-on-my-own #i-m-not-alone #if-it-was-you
People don’t always value life, even their own, as much as they should. ↗
#life-and-death #life-and-living #life-lessons #people #death
I wrote that certain things were leaving me nauseated. I said that judges made me feel that way. Not most of them but all of them. I said that you for example, the judge I'm writing this to, made me feel nauseated. The nausea came from understanding that people produced by every conceivable advantage got to decide whether someone like Jalen lived or died and what was worse was they never fucking seemed to decide that the person should live, that a person's life, any person, was more important than whether some fat fuck at a country club thought you were hard enough on crime or whether you continue to get sufficient reelection campaign contributions you worthless retarded piece of shit. Why should you be allowed to decide anything beyond what you have for lunch you mental infant? ↗
She breathes music. Lives it and bleeds it. Her headphones have become her heartbeat. Her lyrics are her life. Music is her outlet of pain, love, and rage. Every note unplayed is another minute unlived. Every song unsung is another moment lost forever. She relies on music to show her the way, make fantasies real and to ease the pain of everyday life. Each day is another chance to create pure artistry. Music is the reason she is who she is...the good and the bad. Her life without it is like a bird without wings or lungs with out air. Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Her life is her music. Her death will be the note unsaid. ↗
Letter to Myself, in Remission, from Myself, Terminal" You'll come to hate your own poems, read them as pretty wisps of colorful thinking, all those images just a splash of colored oil sloshed over a pool gone rancid. Admit it. Atheists always scared you. And no wonder. Those nights you switched on the fan so no one could hear you scream into your pillow, weeping and biting your own hands like a motherless monkey,banded to a body that despised you, a suit of coals with a jammed-shut zipper. Instead of the truth, you took refuge in stories and souls, wore the word survivor like a pink nimbus. All the while, my dear, I waited, knowing you'd catch up to me one day. I'm holding the black- backed mirror to your face. Look into it. ↗
