The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.
Even death has a heart.
When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time.
My dear, Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover. ~ Falsely yours
You'll stay with me?' Until the very end,' said James.
I go to seek a Great Perhaps.
That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.