All things fade into the storied past, and in a little while are shrouded in oblivion.
[Horror fiction] shows us that the control we believe we have is purely illusory, and that every moment we teeter on chaos and oblivion.
Having a relationship with people of questionable character is like playing with a razor blade on your skin, and pretending to observe that it is harmful to your body.
He looks at houses, chateaus, forests, and thinks about the countless generations who used to see those things and who are gone now; and he understands that everything he is seeing is oblivion; pure o...
Standing at the edge of timeAlmost falling down to the dark abyssAs I near the end of mineI reminisce the things I will missThe smiles and laughterRunning around without a careThe time when my grin wi...
But as he plodded along a vague and almost hallucinatory pall hazed over his mind; he found himself at one point, with no notion of how it could be, a step from an almost certain fatal cliffside fall—...
Oblivion cures the old wounds.
I'm always angry about the death of people who are still alive, their eyes are opened, yet they can't see anything...the spell of ignorance
So if the inevitability of oblivion worries you, than I suggest you ignore it. God knows that's what the rest of the world does.
What matters is at the end of life, when you're about to pass into oblivion, that you've at least scratched 'Kilroy was here,' on the last wall of the universe.
Tell me again what you said at the revel, he says, climbing over me, his body against mine.What? I can barely think.That you hate me, he says, his voice hoarse. Tell me that you hate me.I hate you, I...