I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.
Jandy NelsonRead
All her knowledge is gone now. Everything she ever learned, or heard, or saw. Her particular way of looking at Hamlet or daisies or thinking about love, all her private intricate thoughts, her inconsequential secret musings – they’re gone too. I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I’m watching it burn right to the ground.
Interpretation
The loss of a person equates to the loss of their unique knowledge and perspectives.
This quote reflects on the profound impact of losing someone, emphasizing that each individual holds a wealth of experiences, thoughts, and interpretations of the world. When someone passes away, their unique insights and knowledge, likened to a library filled with invaluable books, are lost forever, leaving a void that cannot be filled.
In practice
During a memorial service, this quote can be used to emphasize the richness of a person's life.
I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.
Or maybe a person is just made up of a lot of peopleMaybe we’re accumulating these new selves all the time. Hauling them in as we make choices, good and bad, as we screw up, step up, lose our minds, find our minds, fall apart, fall in love, as we grieve, grow, retreat from the world, dive into the world, as we make things, as we break things.
Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes part of you, step for step, breath for breath.
... if you're someone who knows the worst thing can happen at any time, aren't you also someone who knows the best thing can happen at any time too?
It's such a colossal effort not to be haunted by what's lost, but to be enchanted by what was.
My sister will die over and over again for the rest of my life. Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes a part of you, step for step, breath for breath. I will never stop grieving Bailey because I will never stop loving her. That's just how it is. Grief and love are conjoined, you don't get one without the other. All I can do is love her, and love the world, emulate her by living with daring and spirit and joy.
There has to be a balance, Vin," Elend said. "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be." He sighed. "But for now," he said, nodding to the side, "we simply have to be satisfied with who we are.
Who do I belong to? How come I mortgaged my being till I don't belong to myself? How come I sold my blood? And who now owns my indecisions, my hands, my private pain, my pride?
The word of man is the most durable of all material.
Labor is the curse of the world, and nobody can meddle with it without becoming proportionately brutalized.
Intuitive versus analytical? That's a foolish choice. It's foolish, just like trying to choose between being realistic or idealistic. You need both in life.
Beauty is worse than wine, it intoxicates both the holder and beholder.
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