#s

People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!” There‘s dead silence on the set. It goes on. And on. Finally, the intercom crackles and Haymitch‘s acerbic laugh fills the studio. He contains himself just long enough to say, “And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#haymitch #katniss-everdeen #revolution #death

One wants to tell a story, like Scheherezade, in order not to die. It's one of the oldest urges in mankind. It's a way of stalling death. ↗

— Carlos Fuentes

#death #writing #death

I am often thought of as being remarkably bright, and yet my brains, more often than not, are busily devising new and interesting ways of bringing my enemies to sudden, gagging, writhing, agonizing death. ↗

— Alan Bradley

#enemies #flavia-de-luce #humor #intelligence #sarcasm

Simon!" The voice was faint, but his hearing caught it over the pop and crackle of glowing flames. The smoke in the corridor had presaged heat; the heat was here now, pressing against him like an oppressive wall. "Simon!" The voice was Clary's. He would know it anywhere. He wondered if his mind was conjuring it up now, a sense of memory of what he'd most loved during life to carry him throught the process of death. "Simon, you stupid idiot! I'm over here! At the window!" Simon jumped to his feet. he doubted his mind would conjure that up. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#simon-and-clary #death

Meaning is a shaky edifice we build out of scraps, dogmas, childhood injuries, newspaper articles, chance remarks, old fillms, small victories, people hated, people loved; perhaps it is because our sense of what is the case is constructed from such inadequate materials that we defend it so fiercely, even to death. ↗

— Salman Rushdie

#life #meaning #death

My love, do you recall the object which we saw, That fair, sweet, summer morn! At a turn in the path a foul carcass On a gravel strewn bed, Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman, Burning and dripping with poisons, Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way Its belly, swollen with gases. ↗

— Charles Baudelaire

#poison #wantonness #woman #death

When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time - the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades away from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes - when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever - there comes another day, and another specifically missing part. ↗

— John Irving

#grief #missing #death

The police seemed to think I killed her, which is crazy, because I loved her like a thousand drops of blood dripping down a dagger. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#dagger #death #framed #guilt #guilty

Betrayal and dishonor is usually an inside job. Keep it 'sucka-free', loved one! ↗

— T.F. Hodge

#deceit #deception #disgrace #dishonor #quotes

Cause if you shoot a bullet someone dies. If you drop a bomb many die. You hit a woman, love dies. But if you say the F-word... nothing actually happens. ↗

— Richard Curtis

#death #fuck #love #swearing #the-boat-that-rocked