#th

Where did my friend go? Was there a place they all gathered, the lost and self destructive? Was there a room they put them in? Necks burnt with rope or holes in their skulls. Beach-water bloated. I will know this at the end of my conversation with life. I will speak and laugh until my tongue falls out and then I will know this. I will know because he will tell me when I see him. How will I enter the theatre? With a hole in my head or exploded by sea. Wrists. ↗

— Brendan Cowell

#suicide #death

Youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness. ↗

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

#dreams

I remember that day in early May after Le Vesconte's and Private Pilkington's brief joint burial service, one of the men suggested that we name the small spur of land where they were buried "Le Vesconte Point," but Captain Crozier vetoed that idea, saying that if we named every place where one of us might end up buried after the dead person there, we'd run out of land before we ran out of names. ↗

— Dan Simmons

#death #francis-rawdon-moira-crozier #death

Mankind is immortal in the comic perspective not by virtue of man's subjugation of nature but by virtue of man's subjection to it. The "fall" in tragedy ends in death; the fall in comedy ends in bed, where, by natures's arithmetic, one and one make a brand new one. ↗

— Rose A. Zimbardo

#literary-criticism #death

Our Mother feedeth thus our little life, That we may in turn feed her with our death ↗

— James Thomson

#mother-nature #poetry #death

…the trouble with oaths of the form, death before dishonor, is that eventually, given enough time and abrasion, they separate the world into two sorts of people: the dead, and the forsworn. ↗

— Lois McMaster Bujold

#death-before-dishonor #in-the-end #inevitable #oaths #the-dead

Wanderers eastward, wanderers west, Know you why you cannot rest? 'Tis that every mother's son Travails with a skeleton. Lie down in the bed of dust; Bear the fruit that bear you must; Bring the eternal seed to light, And morn is all the same as night. ↗

— A.E. Housman

#eternity #morning #night #rest #travel

Stand before his grave and use your gift of breath to complain of your limited time. If you dare. ↗

— Lois McMaster Bujold

#death #life #time #ungratefulness #death

They’re so brave," she said. "They’re all dead." "Only a coward would think of that," she said scornfully. ↗

— Orson Scott Card

#cowards #death #heroes #the-bully-and-the-beast #death

And then the queen wept with all her heart. Not for the cruel and greedy man who had warred and killed and savaged everywhere he could. But for the boy who had somehow turned into that man, the boy whose gentle hand had comforted her childhood hurts, the boy whose frightened voice had cried out to her at the end of his life, as if he wondered why he had gotten lost inside himself, as if he realized that it was too, too late to get out again. ↗

— Orson Scott Card

#death #greed #grief #growing-up #lost