Everyone over 50 in America feels like a refugee. In the Old America there were a lot of bad parents. There always are, because parenting is hard. Inadequate parents could say, 'Go outside and play in the culture,' and the culture -- relatively innocent, and boring -- could be more or less trusted to bring the kids up. Grown ups now know that you can't send the kids out to play in the culture, because the culture will leave them distorted and disturbed.
parenting culture parents kids america bad play leave hard innocent boring
It isn't dying I'm afraid of, it isn't that at all; I know what it is to die, I've died already. It is the endless obliteration, the knowledge that there will never be anything else. That's what I can't stand, to try so hard and to end in nothing. You know what I mean, don't you?.. I really loved to write.
writing death knowledge writers writer end write stand hard die afraid dying
I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.
truth death rest sadness sorrow loss sad night dawn feel awareness day sunlight grief hard dead place normal mornings forgotten
I remember I laughed so hard I cried. But my response was half appropriate, because I was at a funeral.?
death crying remember laughter cry laugh hard funeral
If there be light, then there is darkness; if cold, heat; if height, depth; if solid, fluid; if hard, soft; if rough, smooth; if calm, tempest; if prosperity, adversity; if life, death.
life prosperity adversity death light darkness depth height hard calm tempest cold heat
It's a little hard not to worry when my best friend keeps on dying.
worry friendship death friend hard dying
I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven.
life death leaving heaven hard little-women louisa-may-alcott afraid part
Today, however, we are having a hard time living because we are so bent on outwitting death.
death time existentialism living today hard
Was it hard? I hope she didn't die hard.'Sethe shook her head. 'Soft as cream. Being alive was the hard part.
death hard alive die head part hope
Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don't notice the rain. It falls in sheets, a blanket of silvery thread rushing to the hard almost-winter ground. Still, I stand without moving at the side of the coffin.
death moving autumn rain stand hard funerals side
I was waiting for the longest time, she said. I thought you forgot. It is hard to forget, I said, when there is such an empty space when you are gone.
death time thought heaven space waiting hard forget empty
Writing is hard. Not as hard as not writing. Not writing is torturous, bloody, chaotic and a gruesome winless battle.A writer who writes, knows peace, lives connected to truth. Not writing is ache, betrayal, death of the soul and imagination.
imagination writing truth peace death soul writers writer battle writers-block writers-on-writing lives hard betrayal writers-quotes jamie-weise trains writers-world
But, who is Death? A figure that harrows and wastes wherever and however it pleases. This is also a possible description of the Countess Bathory. Never did anyone wish so hard not to grow old; I mean, to die. That is why, perhaps, she acted and played the role of Death. Because, how can Death possibly die?
death grow hard die description
Birth and death were easy. It was life that was hard.
birth life death hard easy
I am not a coward, but I am so strong. So hard to die.
death strong hard die last-words coward
There are a million things in this world that can end you, that can in one second obliterate the life you work so hard to keep alive. Our lives are structured around not dying. Eating, sleeping, looking both ways before you cross the street. It's all, all of it, to keep us safe from the thing that we know is going to get us anyway. It doesn't even make sense, if you think about it. It's the world's biggest joke. Our entire lives are set up around not dying, knowing all the while that it's the one thing we can't avoid.
life joke work death sense knowing world cross end lives sleeping eating hard safe alive things romeo-and-juliet dying thing
This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.
death end hard love evening
Walking thru this graveyard, I realize times were never really hard. We live, we love, we let it go. The world ain't changed me at all.
life death live walking inspirational world music-lyrics times hard realize love
This was their way of honoring the dead. The story over, the demands of their own hard, rough lives began to re-assert themselves in their hearts, in their nerves, their blood and appetites. Would that the dead were not dead! But there is grass that must be eaten, pellets that must be chewed, hraka that must be passed, holes that must be dug, sleep that must be slept. Odysseus brings not one man to shore with him. Yet he sleeps sound beside Calypso and when he wakes thinks only of Penelope.
sleep sound life man death hearts story lives blood hard dead grass odysseus
There's a psychological mechanism, I've come to believe, that prevents most of us from imagining the moment of our own death. For if it were possible to imagine fully that instant of passing from consciousness to nonexistence, with all the attendant fear and humiliation of absolute helplessness, it would be very hard to live. It would be unbearably obvious that death is inscribed in everything that constitutes life, that any moment of your existence may be only a breath away from being the last. We would be continuously devastated by the magnitude of that inescapable fact. Still, as we mature into our mortality, we begin to gingerly dip our horror-tingling toes into the void, hoping that our mind will somehow ease itself into dying, that God or some other soothing opiate will remain available as we venture into the darkness of non-being.
life imagination mind death live moment existence fear darkness breath mortality helplessness consciousness imagine psychological humiliation hard fact dying begin absolute void god
Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying for someone isn't the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain.. Try living for someone. Through it all-good, bad, thick, thin, joy, suffering. That's the hard thing.
pain man death game human world suffering living joy end bad simple sentimentality hard act dying ultimate love thing thin
Auntie Phyl's last months in the care home were extra pieces. Age is unnecessary. Some of us, like my mother, are fortunate enough to die swiftly and suddenly, in full possession of our faculties and our fate, but more and more of us will be condemned to linger, at the mercy of anxious or indifferent relatives, careless strangers, unwanted medical interventions, increasing debility, incontinence, memory loss. We live too long, but, like the sibyl hanging in her basket in the cave at Cumae, we find it hard to die.
medical fate age death home live memory loss strangers mother care possession mercy find pieces hard linger die hanging relatives
He knew that his father had finally run hard enough and long enough to wear down the frontiers between the worlds, he had run clear out of his skin and into the arms of his wife, to whom he had proved, once and for all, the superiority of his love. Some migrants are happy to depart.
death happy wife hard father run skin arms worlds superiority love
Enough! We're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderlyThe hard types of the mason's knife, As Heaven's sweet life renews earth's lifeWith which we're tired, my heart and I.. In this abundant earth no doubtIs little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by!And if before the days grew roughWe once were loved, used, - well enough,I think, we've fared, my heart and I.
life death days earth heart break sweet hard things tired knife
War was so many things, and not the least of which confusion. What was wrong? What was right, for that matter?Was killing right or wrong? Brave or cowardly? Human nature or unnatural behavior of creatures too smart for their own good?Loyalty, betrayal, hate, love, fear, friendship, teamwork, violence. War was connected to all of these. Hard work, sadness, suffering, discipline, chaos, questions, few answers, strategy, bravery, foolishness, death, life. And both winning and losing were only two small aspects of the word war.
friendship discipline strategy life chaos foolishness work nature death smart war human inspirational confusion bravery suffering fear sadness hate good wrong violence questions winning answers word small loyalty killing creatures losing brave hard things matter betrayal behavior teamwork love
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