#loved

She had dreamed that she lay beneath a spreading tree somewhere, a tree that whispered with ten thousand soft lips of green; and the dream continued for a moment even after waking. ↗

— Algernon Blackwood

#dreams

Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion. ↗

— Brennan Manning

#faith #god #identity #love #self

I loved almost everything about being a teacher, but I was an unusual teacher. ↗

— Dan Simmons

#almost #being #everything #i #loved

I like all those painters who loved and had a strong feeling for nature. ↗

— Alfred Sisley

#had #i #like #loved #nature

The fact is, the man who’d begotten me didn’t want me. In his eyes I should never have been born. And perhaps that would’ve been best. As it was, my existence had proven to be nothing more than a nuisance for everyone. I angered my father, brought strife upon my mother, irritated my teachers, and annoyed the other children who were forced to interact with me in school. All by simply being. When you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#annabelle #child-abuse #richelle #richelle-goodrich #unloved

For seven days she lay in bed looking sullenly at the ceiling as though resenting the death she had cultivated for so many years. Like some people who cannot vomit despite horrible nausea, she lay there unable to die, resisting death as she had resisted life, frozen with resentment of process and change. ↗

— William S. Burroughs

#nausea #resentment #change

I tried to imagine him capital-S Somewhere as we prayed, but even then I could not quite convince myself that he and I would be together again. I already knew too many dead people. I knew that time would now pass for me differently then it would for him- that I, like everyone in that room, would go on accumulating loves and losses while he would not. And for me, that was the final and truly unbearable tragedy: Like all the innumerable dead, he'd once and for all been demoted from haunted to haunter. ↗

— John Green

#death-of-a-loved-one #death-of-a-teenager #illness #death

The dead leave their shadows, an echo of the space within which once they lived. They haunt us, never fading or growing older as we do. The loss we grieve is not just their futures but our own. ↗

— Kate Mosse

#family #loved-ones #death

It kind of scares me though, to keep wearing it every day like I do. What happens when I run out of it? Will I forget what she looked like? What it looked like when the sun reflected on her hair? The way her pillow always smelled like her? Will my memory of her run out too? ↗

— Keary Taylor

#depression #grief #losing-a-loved-one #lost #memories

As I walk through the redwood trees, my sneakers sopping up days of rain, I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes, when grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe. ↗

— Jandy Nelson

#death-of-a-loved-one #grief #love #death