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People are nothing more than the accumulated stories of others. In particular, the stories of their mothers and fathers. I’m not talking about genetics—this is purely a matter of the spirit. Try with all your might to resist, but in the end, you turn out to be no different from them, in your very essence and being.
I’m here for only one reason, and that is to die before death comes to get me.
You have to admit that to a certain extent, happiness is related to whether or not you have any money.
The world is made up of stories. If it wasn’t, life would be insufferable.
Sometimes kindness can bring about more harm than the most malevolent acts.
Laughter is the wind of the mind and soul—it picks you up and whisks you far away.
Why are people born into the world? That’s easy. So they’ll have a story to tell. Some of us die before the story ends, some of us die long after the story has ended, and some of us die right at the very start.
Sadly, life is like that: shaped by things that are the furthest from our minds, things that we don’t imagine could ever happen.
“Dance like no one is watching, love as if you’ve never been hurt, sing like no one is listening, live as if the world is heaven itself!” Those are the secrets to a good life and happiness.
By that point I was on the floor. He got in a few kicks, swearing up a storm as the other passengers tried to shove him away. Later, at the police station, I found out that six months earlier he’d beaten his wife so badly that she ended up in the hospital. Despite that, I was the guilty party while he was as pure as the driven snow.
“Fears exist so we can overcome them.”
“If your heart is beating in your chest, you have a story. Everything you feel, your life, hopes, dreams, and moments of darkness are all your stories.”
It’s not just a story; it teaches us something too. Stories like that go beyond religious sects and divisions. In the end, the important thing is humanity.”
Everyone has a Judas tree within them. Everyone has their own betrayals and feelings of shame. A Judas tree would not conceal me nor shelter me in its branches. They are too short to hide in, but ideal for hanging yourself.
“Because life isn’t what we experience. It’s how we remember it.”
Here lies a woman / She was a person just like you / Flames burn her like the rest of us / The wind buffets her / Thorns make her bleed / But she wasn’t like you / If only someone had told her, “Don’t be afraid” / If only she could have been given her freedom like the blowing wind / If only she could have been treated like a man by the world / Womanhood is beauty and bounty / Womanhood is that which gives life / Womanhood is misfortune in this world / This is your last breath / Here lies a woman / Who bowed to everyone’s desires / In my youth I was as independent as the wind / No one could
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Death is a really important character in both the book and the play we put on, but he has very few lines. Didn’t you get that impression?” “No . . . Death is death. In my opinion, that is. Death paved the way for the expression of some very emotional statements.”
Goodbye, my friend. Farewell, my love. I will never forget you. Because people never forget those they love.
