death

I’m not scared of hell. I lived a decent life, and I don’t think there is such a place, anyway. I’m scared there’s nothing. There was nothing before, we all know that, so doesn’t it stand to reason that there’s nothing after?

Stephen King, Doctor Sleep

Death was no less a miracle than birth.

Stephen King, Doctor Sleep

The good thing about being old, is you don’t have to worry about dying young.

Stephen King, Doctor Sleep

Heaven was a dim attraction compared to that of fighting – and perhaps perishing – in the service of the Lord.

Stephen King, Salem’s Lot

To his way of thinking, the only thing more natural than death was sex.

Stephen King, Salem’s Lot

Death is the only thing in life that you absolutely have to be aware of as it’s happening.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

It feels like a moment I’ve lived a thousand times before, as if everything is familiar, right up to the moment of my death, that it will happen again an infinite number of times, that we will meet, marry, have our children, succeed in the ways we have, fail in the ways we have, all exactly the same, always unable to change a thing. I am again at the bottom of an unstoppable wheel, and when I feel my eyes close for death, as they have and will a thousand times, I awake.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

You will remember when a bird crashed through the window and fell to the floor. You will remember, those of you who were there, how it jerked its wings before dying, and left a spot of blood on the floor after it was removed. But who among you was first to notice the negative bird it left in the window? Who first saw the shadow that the bird left behind, the shadow that drew blood from any finger that dared to trace it, the shadow that was better proof of the bird’s existence than the bird ever was?

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

Every widow wakes one morning, perhaps after years of pure and unwavering grieving, to realize she slept a good night’s sleep, and will be able to eat breakfast, and doesn’t hear her husband’s ghost all the time, but only some of the time. Her grief is replaced with a useful sadness. Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. Mine was. Yours is. Your great-great-great-grandchildren’s will be. But we learn to live in that love.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

It’s true, I am afraid of dying. I am afraid of the world moving forward without me, of my absence going unnoticed, or worse, being some natural force propelling life on. Is it selfish? Am I such a bad person for dreaming of a world that ends when I do? I don’t mean the world ending with respect to me, but every set of eyes closing with mine.

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

Tag cloud