In the mornings, my pain was magnified by about a thousand. In the morning there weren’t only those sad facts about my l — Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
In the mornings, my pain was magnified by about a thousand. In the morning there weren’t only those sad facts about my l — Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
In the mornings, my pain was magnified by about a thousand. In the morning there weren’t only those sad facts about my l — Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
In the mornings, my pain was magnified by about a thousand. In the morning there weren’t only those sad facts about my l — Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
In the mornings, my pain was magnified by about a thousand. In the morning there weren’t only those sad facts about my l — Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
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In the mornings, my pain was magnified by about a thousand. In the morning there weren’t only those sad facts about my life. Now there was also the additional fact that I was a pile of shit.

— Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
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death depression life life and living sadness struggles young

More “Death” Quotes

After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts – like a Chinese nest of boxes – oaks that were acorns that were oaks. D — Walter de la Mare, The Return
And thus we all are nighingThe truth we fear to know:Death will end our cryingFor friends that come and go. — Edwin Arlington Robinson
Everyone was eating, talking softly, glancing at me, hugging me, eating. It was as if someone had turned the volume down — Joan Abelove, Saying it Out Loud
Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don't notice the rain. It falls in sheets, a blanket of silvery thread rushin — Michelle Zink, Prophecy of the Sisters
But after I got them to leave and shut the door and turned off the light it wasn't any good. It was like saying good-by — Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives,When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives,Sweet as a song that on — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
She collapsed at the bottom of the trail, at the edge of the ghost town. Dekka sat on Edilio and pressed down on the wou — Michael Grant, Hunger
The diseased, anyway, are more interesting than the healthy. The words of the diseased, even those who can manage only a — Roberto Bolaño, 2666
The fear of death haunted me for a year. I cried whenever anyone dropped a glass or broke a picture. But even then that — Nicole Krauss, The History of Love
Death always leaves one singer to mourn. — Katherine Anne Porter, Pale Horse, Pale Rider
People are fragile. They die of mistakes, of overdoses, of sickness. But mostly they die of Death. — Holly Black, The Coldest Girl in Coldtown
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