We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
Jeffrey EugenidesRead
She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.
Interpretation
This quote expresses the deep and visceral impact of grief on an individual's physical and mental state.
In this quote, Jeffrey Eugenides captures the profound effects of grief on a person's wellbeing, illustrating how it can disrupt basic functions such as appetite and sleep. The imagery of an 'invisible hand' symbolizes the relentless and haunting nature of sorrow, suggesting that even small moments can be filled with unbearable pain, as the individual grapples with the reality of loss.
In practice
This quote can be used in a eulogy to convey the emotional turmoil of losing a loved one.
We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
It was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.
Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.
It was one of those humid days when the atmosphere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.
Jerome was sliding and climbing on top of me and it felt like it had the night before, like a crushing weight. So do boys and men announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love.
All sixteen mentioned her jutting ribs, the insubstantiality of her thighs, and one, who went up to the roof with Lux during a warm winter rain, told us how the basins of her collarbones collected water.
Liquor is the chloroform which enables the poor man to endure the painful operation of living.
Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair and the Doctor comes to call, everybody lives.
A life must be saved as long as it can be no matter whose it is.
I look into mother's stomach, wonder if you are a boy or a girl_x000D_ _x000D_ Turnin' this woman's womb into a tomb_x000D_ _x000D_ But she and I agree, a seed we don't need_x000D_ _x000D_ You would've been much more than a mouth to feed_x000D_ _x000D_ But someone I would've fed this information I read_x000D_ _x000D_ To someone my life for you I would've had to leave_x000D_ _x000D_ Instead I led you to death.
If time were a bolt of cloth,” said Om, “I would cut out all the bad parts. Snip out the scary nights and stitch together the good parts, to make time bearable. Then I could wear it like a coat, always live happily.
We do survive every moment, after all, except the last one.
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