#eat

The child entered the hut. The old man followed him with his eyes, and added, as though speaking to himself: - "I shall die while he sleeps. The two slumbers may be good neighbors. ↗

— Victor Hugo

#death

...izgleda daleko sve što treba da se desi, i sasvim nestvarno. Duboko u sebi vjerujem da se neće ni desiti. Znam da hoće, ali se nešto u meni smješka, opire, odbija. Desiće se, ali je nemoguće.Ono što znam nije dovoljno. Još je suviše života u mome srcu, i ne pristajem da shvatim. Možda i zato ovo pišem: nisam klonuo, otklanjam smrt. ↗

— Meša Selimović

#death-and-the-dervish #meša-selimović #smrt #death

The bell tolling not for us, it’s time for bluebells. ↗

— Lara Biyuts

#flowers #life-and-death #seasons #death

She was dry, dry inside like a ten-thousand-year-old tomb, with the last of her life barely dampening the dirt underneath. ↗

— Kat Rosenfield

#cry #death #youth #death

Rehv cleared his throat. “What book is that?” The Moor looked up, his almond-shaped eyes focusing with a sharpness Rehv could have done without. “You’re awake.” “What book?” “It’s The Shadow Death Lexicon.” “Light reading. And here I thought you were a Candace Bushnell fan. ↗

— J.R. Ward

#trez #death

Because through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling my name, calling me to the only heaven I wanted. ↗

— Stephenie Meyer

#death #dying #death

To regret the exchange of earthly pleasures for the joys of Heaven, is as if the grovelling caterpillar should lament that it must one day quit the nibbled leaf to soar aloft and flutter through the air, roving at will from flower to flower, sipping sweet honey from their cups, or basking in their sunny petals. If these little creatures knew how great a change awaited them, no doubt they would regret it; but would not all such sorrow be misplaced? ↗

— Anne Brontë

#death #fear #heaven #transformation #change

When a husband loses his wife, they call him a widower. When a wife loses her husband, they call her a widow. And when somebody’s parents die, they call them an orphan. But there is no name for a parent, a grieving mother, or a devastated father who have lost their child. Because the pain behind the loss is so immeasurable and unbearable, that it cannot be described in a single word. It just cannot be described. ↗

— Bhavya Kaushik

#grief #losing-a-child #pain #sad #death

Revenge is never pretty and often leaves you empty. --Alexandria "Dria" McAndrews ↗

— C.J. Ellisson

#death

Era linistitor sa stiu ca seara nu voi mai trai. ↗

— Hermann Hesse

#nihilism #relief-from-pain #suicide #death