#liter

Kill me, or you are a murderer. ↗

— Franz Kafka

#literature #death

When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation. ↗

— Jorge Luis Borges

#death #literature #reading #words #death

Until then I had thought each book spoke of the things, human or divine, that lie outside books. Now I realized that not infrequently books speak of books: it is as if they spoke among themselves. In the light of this reflection, the library seemed all the more disturbing to me. It was then the place of a long, centuries-old murmuring, an imperceptible dialogue between one parchment and another, a living thing, a receptacle of powers not to be ruled by a human mind, a treausre of secrets emanated by many minds, surviving the death of those who had produced them or had been their conveyors. ↗

— Umberto Eco

#library #literature #reading #words #death

Since the Renaissance, Shakespeare, Rembrandt, Mozart, and a host of others have shown that this religious dimension can be experienced and communicated apart from any religious context. But that is no reason for closing my heart to Job's cry, or to Jeremiah's, or to the Second Isaiah. I do not read them as mere literature; rather, I read Sophocles and Shakespeare with all my being, too. ↗

— Walter Kaufmann

#religious #communication

I grew up in a very literate, very independent household where people spoke their ideas and were very supportive of helping each other find their own way. ↗

— Lucinda Williams

#find #grew #helping #household #i

But since Catt was more realist than fabulist, she understood her actual death at the hands of her killer would be something much slower. It would be a classical feminine death, like a marriage…Raised by meek working-class parents, she despised petty groveling and had no talent for making shit up. She wanted to be a “real” intellectual moving with dizzying freedom between high and low points in the culture. And to a certain extent, she’d succeeded. Catt’s semi-name attracted a following among Asberger’s boys, girls who’d been hospitalized for mental illness, sex workers, Ivy alumnae on meth, and always, the cutters. With her small self-made fortune, Catt saw herself as Moll Flanders, out-sourcing her visiting professorships and writing commissions to younger artists whose work she believed in. But she’d reached a point lately where the same young people she’d helped were blogging against her, exposing the ‘cottage industry’ she ran out of her Los Angeles compound facing the Hollywood sign … the same compound these bloggers had lived in rent-free after arriving from Iowa City, Alberta, New Zealand. Loathing all institutions, Catt had become one herself. Even her dentist asked her for money. ↗

— Chris Kraus

#death

Inspirasi tak mengenal kata mati There is no death for inspiration. ↗

— Skylashtar Maryam

#literary #death

How stark everything became, at the end, all the wishes for one's children distilled by the world's swift cruelty into the desperate hope that death would take them fast. ↗

— Justin Cronin

#literary #poetic #death

If birth is a manifestation of life, death is another. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#death #dejan-stojanovic #life #literature #literature-quotes

Every thought about death takes a moment of life away. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dejan-stojanovic #life #literature #literature-quotes #poetry