death

death

No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning.

No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and towards the end, his wife started crying and screaming, "I want to go too! I want to go too!" And with his last measure of strength, McKinley turned to her and spoke his last words: "We are all going.

I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and towards the end, his wife started crying and screaming, "I want to go too! I want to go too!" And with his last measure of strength, McKinley turned to her and spoke his last words: "We are all going.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.

Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.

It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Does it hurt?" The childish question had escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. "Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep.

Does it hurt?" The childish question had escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. "Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.

Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

When you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.

When you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

The dead can survive as part of the lives of those that still live.

The dead can survive as part of the lives of those that still live.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do - the best ones. The ones who rise up and say "I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come." Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places.

His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do - the best ones. The ones who rise up and say "I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come." Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.

If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Here lies Dobby, a free elf.

Here lies Dobby, a free elf.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

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