I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shall when I am dancing with my tribe during the powwow at the end of the world.
— Sherman Alexie, from ‘The Powwow at the End of the World’
[But death replied: ‘I choose him’. So he went,
And there was silence in the summer night;
Silence and safety; and the veils of sleep.]
Then, far away, the thudding of the guns.
— Siegfried Sassoon, from “The Death-Bed”
So I become
my blinding self:
— Remica L Bingham, from “What We Ask of Flesh”
[Now crazy Nell rambles; and still she will weep,
And, fearless, at night into hovels will creep.]
Fond parents! alas, their affliction is deep,
And vainly they comfort their child
— John Clare, from “
Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery”
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
— John Dryden, from “Happy the Man”
To other landing our arms leading
let us trust the wind and tide ebbing
to waft us westward.
— J. R. R. Tolkien, from “The Fall of Arthur”