I read obituaries every day to learn what sorts of lives are available to us, to see an entire life compressed into a fe — Sarah Manguso, The Guardians: An Elegy for a Friend
I read obituaries every day to learn what sorts of lives are available to us, to see an entire life compressed into a fe — Sarah Manguso, The Guardians: An Elegy for a Friend
I read obituaries every day to learn what sorts of lives are available to us, to see an entire life compressed into a fe — Sarah Manguso, The Guardians: An Elegy for a Friend
I read obituaries every day to learn what sorts of lives are available to us, to see an entire life compressed into a fe — Sarah Manguso, The Guardians: An Elegy for a Friend
I read obituaries every day to learn what sorts of lives are available to us, to see an entire life compressed into a fe — Sarah Manguso, The Guardians: An Elegy for a Friend
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I read obituaries every day to learn what sorts of lives are available to us, to see an entire life compressed into a few column inches, to fit the whole story in my eye at once.

— Sarah Manguso, The Guardians: An Elegy for a Friend
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More “Elegy” Quotes

I am not a finished poem, and I am not the song you’ve turned me into. I am a detached human being, making my way in a w — Charlotte Eriksson, Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
You can either follow your dreams or adjust with your society's expectations... Either way, consequences are uncertain.. — K Hari Kumar
We pass and leave you lying. No need for rhetoric, for funeral music, for melancholy bugle-calls. No need for tears now, — Richard Aldington, Roads To Glory
Here all may see my body lie/ But not my soul, for that can fly! — Helme Heine, Seven Wild Pigs: Eleven Picture Book Fantasies
Oh hours of childhood,when behind each shape more than the past appearedand what streamed out before us was not the f — Rainer Maria Rilke, The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,And Mourners to and froKept treading – treading – till it seemedThat Sense was breaking th — Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Did you tell them that you made love to the poet?Did you tell them that our lovechild is an elegy? — Danabelle Gutierrez, & Until The Dreams Come
When you were strung outand I kissed youI imagined your moutha mound of cocaine,inhaling your breathlike powder as I pus — Sean Thomas Dougherty, Sasha Sings the Laundry on the Line
Their ghosts are gagged, their books are library flotsam,Some of their names - not all - we learnt in schoolBut, life be — Louis MacNeice
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There has not been a day since his sudden and mysterious vanishing that I have not been searching for him, looking in th — Hisham Matar, Anatomy of a Disappearance
Every angel is terrifying. — Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies