#loss

Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering. ↗

— Roland Barthes

#grief #loss #mourning #suffering #death

Time is such a waste of time to think about, because the longer you ponder it, the more of it you lose. And before you know it, you don’t know it, because you are nothing but dusty worm food. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#funny #humor #knowledge #loss #ponder

When you meet an extraordinary person, it’s like they get inside you, under your ribs, and shuffle everything inside you around until they find space for greatness to grow. But extraordinary people always get away. And when they leave, they take that little part of you with them. Suddenly you find yourself with a gap in your chest that you don’t know how to live with. Suddenly you’re frightened of being yourself without them. ↗

— Chloe Rattray

#loss #friendship

His leaving had been like snipping off the end of a rope - leaving two unraveling strands. ↗

— Sarah Blakley-Cartwright

#friendship #loss #sadness #friendship

This is a theater," Bertie, annoyed by the inquisition, dropped him onto stage. Several feet of slack cable landed atop the fairy in a slithering heap. "Oh!" Peaseblossom said. "You've buried him alive! ↗

— Lisa Mantchev

#eyes-like-stars #funny #lisa-mantchev #mustardseed #peaseblossom

Each memory rips through me, and although I stow myself against the emotions, I can’t prevent the pain that accompanies each image. Pain for a love never acknowledged, pain for a friendship now gone. Pain for a loss I can’t possibly endure. ↗

— Christine Fonseca

#loss #pain #sacrifice #zane #friendship

Funny how an absence can feel like a presence, like that space practically glows with her outline and make me notice how she's not here. ↗

— Joan Steinau Lester

#loss #friendship

He crosses the front room, which he calls his study, and comes down the staircase. The stairs turn a corner; they are narrow and steep. You can touch both handrails with your elbows, and you have to bend your head, even if, like George, you are only five eight. This is a tightly planned little house. He often feels protected by its smallness; there is hardly room enough here to feel lonely. Nevertheless. ↗

— Christopher Isherwood

#loss #protection #home

But it turns out Joy is a house built from the same bricks as Sorrow. Pleasure is a poem, and it uses the same words as Pain. ↗

— Julio-Alexi Genao

#grief #joy #loss #pain #pleasure

There was always a big party on the night before anyone left for the States. They called it an American wake, because the whole community stayed up to keep the emigrants company through their last night on the island, just as they would have bidden farewell to a soul beginning the long journey towards eternity. There was almost no chance that anyone present would ever see the departed again ↗

— Cole Moreton

#family #ireland #irish #loss #family