#sickness

Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, sickness and captivity would, without this comfort, be insupportable. ↗

— William Samuel Johnson

#comfort #condition #every #hope #insupportable

When I started writing I was a sick teenaged fuck inside who partly thought I was the new Marquis de Sade, a body doomed to communicate with Satan who was us- ing my sickness as his home away from home, and there’s your proof. ↗

— Dennis Cooper

#sickness #writing #communication

I'm always telling myself I don't have many feelings. Even when something does affect me I'm only moderately moved. I almost never cry. It's not that I'm stronger than the ones with teary eyes, I'm weaker. They have courage. When all you are is skin and bones, feelings are a brave thing. I'm more of a coward. The difference is minimal though, I just use my strength not to cry. When I do allow myself a feeling, I take the part that hurts and bandage it up with a story that doesn't cry, that doesn't dwell on homesickness. ↗

— Herta Müller

#feelings #homesickness #sadness #courage

Bacon's portraits are an interrogation on the limits of the self. Up to what degree of distortion does an individual still remain himself? To what degree of distortion does a beloved person still remain a beloved person? For how long does a cherished face growing remote through illness, through madness, through hatred, through death still remain recognizable? Where is the border beyond which a self ceases to be a self? ↗

— Milan Kundera

#the-self #death

It doesn't seem right that someone like that would get sick and die.' [He] countered, 'Why shouldn't it be right? It's what happens. ↗

— Jan Elizabeth Watson

#happens #sickness #death

Foi então que tudo vacilou. O mar trouxe um sopro espesso e ardente. Pareceu-me que o céu se abria em toda a sua extensão, deixando chover fogo. Todo o meu ser se retesou e crispei a mão sobre o revólver. O gatilho cedeu, toquei o ventre polido da coronha e foi aí, no barulho ao mesmo tempo seco e ensurdecedor, que tudo começou. Sacudi o suor e o sol. Compreendi que destruíra o equilíbrio do dia, o silêncio excepcional de uma praia onde havia sido feliz. Então atirei quatro vezes ainda num corpo inerte em que as balas se enterravam sem que se desse por isso. E era como se desse quatro batidas secas na porta da desgraça. ↗

— Albert Camus

#death

A napfénytől felforrósodott néma lakásban, történjen bármi, biztonságban éreztem magam. A rejtekhely biztonsága fontosabb a levegőnél. Távol lenni mindentől és mindenkitől. Annál azért már többre tartja magát az ember, hogy a saját egoizmusát, más néven az állatiasságát elfogadja. Nem gondoltam az égvilágon senkire. Nem volt levegő. Arra sem gondoltam, hogy valakire gondolnom kéne, vagy lenne lény a földön, akire nem gondolok. Halála óráján tényleg egyedül marad az ember, ezt azonban a nyereség oldalán kell elkönyvelni. ↗

— Péter Nádas

#death-and-dying #dying #last-words #sickness #death

Love alleviates you the moment you become too sick with it. Live to love, even if you don’t outlive the experience. ↗

— Bauvard

#humor #love #sickness #experience

The difference between technology and slavery is that slaves are fully aware that they are not free ↗

— Nassim Nicholas Taleb

#modern-life #modern-society #modernity #modernity-is-a-sickness #slavery

But there’s something about Watonka, they say. Something that pulls us back, the electromagnet that holds all the metal in place. It’s the food, they say, or the chicken wings or the sports teams or the people or the way the air over the Skyway smells like Cheerios on account of the old General Mills Plant. ↗

— Sarah Ockler

#homesickness #western-new-york #food