#sister

There comes a point at which you stop giving things up. That is what i won't give up. None of it will i give up, for my beautiful sister Ivy who lies in bed. Ivy who used to be alive. Ivy who used to be. Ivy who used. Ivy who. Ivy-who-is-not-me. Not me. Not me. Not me. ↗

— Alison McGhee

#moving-on #sisters #beauty

A woman isn't all that different from a bonfire. A fire's a beautiful thing, right? Something you can't take your eyes off, when it's burning. If you can keep it contained, it'll throw light and heat for you. It's only when it gets out of control that you have to go on the offensive. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#my-sister-s-keeper #woman #beauty

I do not mourn the loss of my sister because she will always be with me, in my heart," she says. "I am, however, rather annoyed that my Tara has left me to suffer you lot alone. I do not see as well without her. I do not hear as well without her. I do not feel as well without her. I would be better off without a hand or a leg than without my sister. Then at least she would be here to mock my appearance and claim to be the pretty one for a change. We have all lost our Tara, but I have lost a part of myself as well. ↗

— Erin Morgenstern

#mourning #sisters #change

If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone? ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#loss #sisters #death

Because you are my sister in every fiber of my being....but there are aother strands that link us, that wouldn't be seen by even the strongest electron microscope.......We are conjoined by hundreds os thousands of memories that silt down into you and stop being memories and become a part of who you are. ↗

— Rosamund Lupton

#death

Death is not a tragedy to the one who dies; to have wasted the life before that death, that is the tragedy. ↗

— Orson Scott Card

#death-and-dying #life-and-living #sister-carlotta #death

Whilst the wolflets bayed, A grave was made, And then with the strokes of a silver spade, It was filled to make a mound. And for two cold days and three long nights, The father tended that holy plot; And stayed by where his wife was laid, In the grave within the ground. ↗

— Roman Payne

#burial #death #father-and-wife #grave #payne

So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#sisterhood #union #dreams

In your rocking-chair, by your window dreaming, shall you long, alone. In your rocking- chair, by your window, shall you dream such happiness as you may never feel. ↗

— Theodore Dreiser

#dreams

We were never organized readers who would see a book through to its end in any sory of logical order. We weave in and out of words like tourists on a hop-on, hop-off bus tour. Put a book down in the kitchen to go to the bathroom and you might return to find it gone, replaced by another of equal interest. We are indiscriminate. ↗

— Eleanor Brown

#readers #reading #sisters #equality