Not yet, " he wailed, as raw as the earth. "But you lay as though already dead, and I cannot go on without you. Do not leave me; do not die! " And I felt a grief from him to melt the mountain ice. Grief to drown in. Grief to both rend my heart and mend it at once. Tosca Lee
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
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Unknown
My dear, Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will...
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Charles Bukowski
If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?
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Jodi Picoult
Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.
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J.k. Rowling
Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone.
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Mitch Albom
More Quotes By Tosca Lee
It is harder for queens, who have no luxury of meekness. History does not know how to reconcile our ambition or our power when we are strong enough to survive it. The priests have no tolerance for those of us driven by the divine madness...
The history keepers will no doubt tell their own tale, and the priests another. It is the men's accounts that seem to survive a world obsessed with conquest, our actions beyond bedchamber and hearth remembered only when we leave their obscurity. And so we become...
I wonder now if [the gods] take from us that which we love so we must seek them, if only to scavenge for meaning in this existence.
Not yet, " he wailed, as raw as the earth. "But you lay as though already dead, and I cannot go on without you. Do not leave me; do not die! " And I felt a grief from him to melt the mountain ice. Grief...
A mist crept into the valley–how could this be, by the light of the climbing sun? It drifted over the form in the grass, nearly obscuring it, seeming to draw all sound into itself. I thought I might burst from the strain of that silence......
