When I was little I used to read the obituaries and one day I asked my mother why people die in alphabetical order.
Well, as long as someone remembers you, you never really die.
Dying is a misnomer. You’re alive, until you’re not.
What’s left unfinished? What is it that you haven’t done yet, that you need to do before you leave this life?
I don’t know why, when it comes to death, we say we lost someone. They’re not missing or misplaced. They’re whisked away from the tightest embrace.
Truth vibrates when it’s drawn across the bow of pain.
I want to finish what I started.” Life asked death, “Why do people love me but hate you?” Death responded, “Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth.” – Unknown.
I know it feels crass to talk about death in such mercenary terms, but that’s the very problem with death in the first place. We don’t know how to talk about it. We use euphemisms and discuss pearly gates and angels while glossing over the fact that we have to die to get there. We treat it like a mystery, when in fact, it’s the one experience all of us are guaranteed to share.
It’s just how she is made, and if that isn’t everyone’s standard of perfect, then maybe they just have to revise their damn standard.
Death is scary and confusing and painful, and facing it alone shouldn’t be the norm.
How can you enjoy life if you spend every minute fearing the end of it?
Here’s the insane thing about resuming your old life when it’s nearly ended; it is business as usual. Your heart may be broken, your nerves may be shattered, but the trash needs to be taken out. Groceries must be bought. You have to fill your car with gas. People still depend on you.
Be the first, Maidan, she would tell me, or all you will see is the back of someone braver than you.
That’s the thing about being obsessed with the past. It keeps you from having to notice the present.
Highclere Castle, before it became a set for Downton Abbey.
It was right. At the time,” I reply. Trying to steer the conversation onto neutral ground, I add, “Did you know that modern Egyptian women pinch the bride for good luck?” “That’s unfortunate.” “There are all kinds of superstitions around weddings. Veils protected the bride from evil spirits. Bridesmaids confused the Devil, if he came to snatch the bride. And a long train made it harder for her to run away.
My sister’s in pain, and I’m relieved. What does that say about me?
You ought to be attracted to someone for what they’ve got inside them, not for the package it’s presented in.
We were gasoline poured onto fire. With you I burned twice as high and hot. This is why you and I could never have stayed together. We would have consumed each other until there was nothing left.
MY MOTHER USED to say that blue eyes were bad luck, because you could see everything that a blue-eyed person was thinking, but I didn’t heed the warning the first time I met Wyatt Armstrong.