#oblivion

I'm not sure whether Los Angeles borders on the ocean or on oblivion. I always feel that I'm two steps away from the other side when I'm out there. It's more like a vacation place or a place to visit than a place to hunker down. ↗

— Jeffrey Wright

#angeles #away #borders #down #feel

There is no better guide to this world than oblivion. ↗

— Sorin Cerin

#love #oblivion #life

There is only as much space, only as much time, Only as much desire, only as many words, Only as many pages, only as much ink To accept all of us at light-speed Hurrying into the Promised Land Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#desire #ink #light-speed #literature #literature-quotes

Finishing second in the Olympics gets you silver. Finishing second in politics gets you oblivion. ↗

— Richard M. Nixon

#gets #oblivion #olympics #politics #second

Oblivion is the rule and fame the exception, of humanity. ↗

— Antoine Rivarol

#fame #humanity #oblivion #rule

Apathy is a sort of living oblivion. ↗

— Horace Greeley

#living #oblivion #sort

Do not let arguments of expediency persuade you. That is the slow road to oblivion. That is the tortured path to undoing step by step, bit by bit, as the river creates a canyon, the way of life that we love. ↗

— Charles Schumer

#canyon #creates #expediency #life #love

I looked over at Augustus Waters, who looked back at me. You could almost see through his eyes they were so blue. "There will come a time," I said, "when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed for that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. ↗

— John Green

#oblivion #death

We must forget in order to remain present, forget in order not to die, forget in order to remain faithful. ↗

— Marc Augé

#memory #oblivion #faith

...she imagines her body curled in the narrow monk's bed, knees to chin, her own irrefutable geography, but she sees the blood of her futile heart seeping out over her chest and arms and legs, flooding across the rough wooden floor, down the narrow wooden stairs and out into the old soil of the garden. No roses, no, she does not even ask to make roses, just dissolution; most any night she asks just for that. ↗

— Michelle Latiolais

#emptiness #grief #grieving #loss #lost-love