#ken

Do you know that feeling - The feeling of being alive and dead, both at the same time? When it seems like you are just going through with different notions of life, without actually living it. I do, I know that feeling very well. I live with it, eat with it and often sleep with it. ↗

— Bhavya Kaushik

#heartbroken #loneliness #life

I make it a policy not to second-guess my instincts. Life's more fun that way. ~Train Heartnet ↗

— Kentaro Yabuki

#kentaro-yabuki #train-heartnet #life

This was the lesson we kept learning over and over and over, the lesson our mother was best capable of teaching us. Love—whatever else it might or might not be—was fleeting. Love stormed into your life and occupied it, it took over every corner of your soul, made itself comfortable, made itself wanted, then treasured, then necessary, love did all of this and then it did next the only thing it had left to do, it retreated, it vanished, it left no trace of itself. Love was horrifying. ↗

— Christie Hodgen

#love #sad #true #life

What doesn't quicken dies. That's an indisputable truth of life. ↗

— Dean Koontz

#life #quicken #truth #life

After a while, it all started to fade. No more pain, no more unwanted thoughts and no sound. Just darkness. I welcomed it. I was done. ↗

— Ani San

#depression #heartbroken #life #pain #life

Life is messy. ↗

— Shannon L. Alder

#destiny #life

Don't you know the man whose life you spare will always hate you? ↗

— Lian Hearn

#life

I've said it once and i'll say it again.... "It's fiction!.... In fiction it doesn't have to be true but it does have to make sense. Unlike life, that doesn't have to make sense but is true. ↗

— Ellie Williams

#abp #ellie-williams #teamelbombz #life

This life will hit you--hard. In the face! It'll wait for you to get back up, just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you, is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. ↗

— Sarah Kay poet

#life

As I know only too well, anticipation od happiness can sometimes be as gratifying as its consummation. Even during the first months of my separation, every footstep on the pavement would have me racing to the window, and every ring of the doorbell would set my heart beating as fast as a bird's. But as the months went by without even a word, I gradually had to relinquish my hopes of seeing him again. It was not easy to do so, and I am not sure whether I have managed it entirely; however I did stop waking with that thought in my head, imagining what he was doing every hour of the day, and whether his journey would by chance take him past my door. I tried to tell myself instead that I was fortunate in my neglect; that now I needed have no fear that he would arrive and his gimlet eye start to anatomize the cushions, or the curtains, or the state of the fireplace; that now, at last, my life was my own. But truth to tell, I would have given anything to see him walk with his jaunty step up to my front door and rap out a cheerful rhythm with his silver-topped cane. ↗

— Gaynor Arnold

#imagination