Watching A Loved One Die Quotes & Sayings

I wanted some assurances that my life would never again be torn apart like that, that I would never again suffer the pain of watching my loved one destroyed by his own hand. And with that one telephone message I realized, in a brutal, final way that so long as I was with Flynn I would never be protected from the horror of suicide. That he would always be capable of stopping his medication, always be capable of lying to cover his illness, always be capable of swallowing forty pills and lying down beside his girlfriend to die. — Tabitha Suzuma

It was his habit, when he rewrote anything, to shed himself of all earlier versions. He kept a clean house. — Barbara Kingsolver

I spent five years of my childhood in Port Elgin and came back to spend another five years of my young adulthood there as well, including the years in which I was first published. — Susanna Kearsley

No one understands me but I am cool with that. I was different from others. I knew this from when I was young. Things that turned people off normally about violence and death did the exact opposite with me. For when I was a small boy, death always intrigued me. I loved watching things die. Watching life leave someone's eyes was an adrenaline rush. — Jewel_louise

They're hungry for this, I realized. Even after they've seen what he can do, even after watching their own people die. The Darkling wasn't just offering them an end to war, but an end to weakness. After all these long years of terror and suffering, he would give them something that had seemed permanently beyond their grasp: victory. And despite their fear, they loved him for it. — Leigh Bardugo

His name is Richard Bingham and he's an advertising executive at Bingham, Charles & Alexander. And yes, he is the Bingham in the title. He says, "I loved watching you eat your lunch. You really savored the flavors."
I am immediately mortified by his comment as I can only imagine what I must have looked like. I get an image in my head of a phone sex commercial for 1-800 eat-this. I grimace and beg, "Please tell me you were not watching me eat."
But he just smiles, "I couldn't take my eyes off of you. That's why I brought the desserts over. I can die a happy man if you'll just take one bite of each of them for me. — Whitney Dineen

Well, then, why do we need all these books?" the boy asked.
"So that we can understand those few lines," the Englishman answered, without appearing really to believe what he had said. — Paulo Coelho

He could always go back to be a shepherd, but he had a dream. That's doesn't happen to just anyone. — Paulo Coelho

I once overheard someone telling someone else "Don't confuse kindness with something else." Even though this was not directed at me, I took heed and never hedged my bets. — Shawn Michael Severud

If nostalgia holds you hostage,
the ransom is the present. — Khang Kijarro Nguyen

I've made her relive, over and over, the last few days," I say softly, watching Ms. White's body. "I've had to fill in the blanks with my own feelings and experiences. She's spiraling around those last moments, those times when she went against me, and she's feeling it from my side, the pain, the betrayal."
She thinks she's awake. I'm doing to her just what she did to me. I'm making her feel what it was like to slowly go crazy, to question everything. To watch my mother die. To fight for my life against my best friend. To feel the man who loved me try to kill me.
To know that the woman I trusted as much as my own mother betrayed me.
That's what I'm making her feel.
I've turned her into me, and made her live the life she forced me to live.
Over and over and over again. — Beth Revis

Before you can express love, you must find love. You must know love within yourself before you can express it. You must love yourself before you can give it to another. — Tae Yun Kim

"Isn't it fun getting older?" is really a terrible fallacy. That's like saying I prefer driving an old car with a flat tire. — Katharine Hepburn

You will never feel whole in the presence of your mate if you don't feel whole standing alone. — Debra Fileta

Sometimes it's the smallest decisions that can change your life forever. — Keri Russell

Remember ...
Keystrokes are hammer taps. Get words on paper. Don't worry about connections, character or plot. Work for an hour. Promise yourself an hour. Do nothing else but move your fingers. Make coarse shapes. Follow any emotion that pops up but never impose emotion, never fake it, and don't make up your mind or your heart ahead of time. Understand you don't know what you're doing. That's why you're here. Rough it out. Anything goes. You can decide later what any piece of text looks like, what it might mean. Don't stop. Don't question. Don't quit. Don't stop to read what you wrote. Move your fingers. You mind will have no other option but to keep up. Remember that writer's block is merely the cold marble waiting for the chisel to heat up. — Bob Thurber

England! awake! awake! awake! Jerusalem thy sister calls! Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death And close her from thy ancient walls? — William Blake

How many millennia had she witnessed? Watching people, loved ons, be bron, live, grow and die was at once a thought of wonder and infinite sadness. — G.R. Matthews

Home they brought her warrior dead: She nor swooned, nor uttered cry: All her maidens, watching, said, 'She must weep or she will die.' Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stepped, Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee- Like summer tempest came her tears- 'Sweet my child, I live for thee.' -Alfred Lord Tennyson — Colleen Houck

Light up the darkness. — Bob Marley

Barrons cut her a hard look. "Some of us are more useful and important than others."
"My ass, you are," Christian growled.
Barrons folded his arms. "Who let the Unseelie in here? — Karen Marie Moning

Who was the real me? I can only repeat: I was a man of many faces.

At meetings I was earnest, enthusiastic, and committed; among friends, unconstrained and given to teasing; with Marketa, cynical and fitfully witty; and alone (and thinking of Marketa), unsure of myself and as agitated as a schoolboy.

Was the last face the real one?

No. They were all real: I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces because I was young and didn't know who I was or wanted to be. (I was frightened by the differences between one face and the next; none of them seemed to fit me properly, and I groped my way clumsily among them.) — Milan Kundera

On the first day of fifth grade, Liz was sitting on the swing beside Liam's at recess. Falling and flying, her hair fanned out behind her and her eyes were closed, and that was what had caught his attention, her closed eyes. She looked a little bit silly and very much alive, and Liam couldn't stop watching.

Liz, on her part, was aware that the boy beside her was watching, but she loved swinging too much to care what he thought. She loved the wind hitting her face and the brief moment of suspension at the top of the arc and the falling sensation that was magnified by the darkness of her eyelids. She imagined that she was a bird, an angel, a wayward star.

At the height of the arc, she let go. And she flew.

Liam watched with his mouth hanging wide open, expecting her to crumple on the asphalt and die tragically before his eyes.

She didn't, and when she walked away, Liam's heart followed. — Amy Zhang