Helena

“My dearest, darling Sidney,' There was nothing else. Only dead white paper, blank and meaningless. A comma, followed by nothing. Death summed up by grammar.”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“Here's what I do. I think of myself in my crib, the night the fairies took me. I imagine that I died that night. Everything that happened since has happened to somebody else: a phantom who breathes and eats and sleeps, no more alive than the changeling who was left in their place. We have no say in our own destinies, no right to love, no right to be happy. We are dead. We cannot be recalled to life. When you think of that, it isn't so terribly sad. Infants die in their cradles all the time.”
― H.G. Parry, A Far Better Thing

“The birds chattered merrily on the wet brown branches. Daffodils sunned out among the headstones. How alive it all seemed, and how gracious-to die in an era when your death bought you a brief moment at the centre of something. To be important, rather than one of millions.”
― Alice Winn, In Memoriam

“any sec I could step off a cliff

I think I've always felt this way

the smoke makes it clear”
― Henry Hoke, Open Throat