“How could the death of someone you had never met affect you so?” ―Robert Galbraith
“I wonder if that’s how darkness wins, by convincing us to trap it inside ourselves, instead of emptying it out. I don’t want it to win.”
Vivamus, Moriendum Est.
“Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night. I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room. I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft. I am not there. I have not left.”
―Mary Elizabeth Frye
Today is two weeks since my cousin passed away. It’s been a dark time of dissociation. I feel a mess of things which probably shouldn’t be verbalized for a while, and I am working out how to make sure what her family went through never happens to another family again. That’s a tall order, but I’m nothing if not determined. It is easier to try and fix a universally broken system, than it is to be angry. At the moment, I’m both, so I need time. Ultimately, this is not about me at all.
“She had always found villains more exciting than heroes. They had ambition, passion. They made the stories happen. Villains didn’t fear death. No, they wrapped themselves in death like suits of armor! As she inhaled the school’s graveyard smell, Agatha felt her blood rush. For like all villains, death didn’t scare her. It made her feel alive.” ―Soman Chainani
“Each death laid a dreadful charge of complicity on the living; each death was incongruous, its guilt irreducible, its sadness immortal; a bracelet of bright hair about the bone. I did not pray for her, because prayer has no efficacy; I did not cry for her, because only extroverts cry twice; I sat in the silence of that night, that infinite hostility to man, to permanence, to love, remembering her, remembering her.”
“Death abides by no one’s rules…it takes what pleases it without consciousness to its decisions. It destroys what it will. It took the pieces of perfection I once knew and shattered them. Now what remains are shards of a dream, drawing blood with every step.” ―Cassandra Giovanni
“Time is ungovernable, but grief presents us with a choice: what do we do with the savage energies of bereavement? What do we do with the memory – or in the memory – of the beloved? Some commemorate love with statuary, but behavior, too, is a memorial, as is a well-lived life. In death, there is always the promise of hope. The key is opening, rather than numbing, ourselves to pain. Above all, we must show our children how to celebrate existence in all its beauty, and how to get up after life has knocked us down, time and again. Half-dead, we stand. And together, we salute love. Because in the end, that’s all that matters. How hard we loved, and how hard we tried.” ―Antonella Gambotto-Burke
“You left ground and sky weeping, mind and soul full of grief.
No one can take your place in existence, or in absence. Both mourn, the angels, the prophets, and this sadness I feel has taken from me the taste of language, so that I cannot say the flavor of my being apart.”
“Losing your life is not the worst thing that can happen. The worst thing is to lose your reason for living.” ―Jo Nesbo