ELEKTRA : Oh my love take me there. Let me dwell where you are. I am already nothing. I am already burning. — Sophocles, Electra. 410 B.C.E. (tr. by Anne Carson) Advertisements
Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted. — Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound. (Kessinger Publishing, LLC, June 17, 2004) Originally published 1820.
Presume not that I am the thing I was. — William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 2. Act V Scene v
Here, the walls are made of moon and stars, and each breath is mingled with tender coolness like a shiver from lips to lips. — Pauline Albanese, The Closed Doors. (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform; 1 edition, October 3, 2015)
As in flowers, beauty grows slowly, silently in the poet. — Sabina Berman, The Theatre of Sabina Berman: The Agony of Ecstasy and Other Plays. trans. Associate Professor Adam Versenyi Southern Illinois University Press; 1st edition, December 30, 2002)
So gather me up, dear, fold me to your heart – and you’ll see how nice I can be. — Jean-Paul Sartre, from “No Exit,” No Exit and Three Other Plays. (Vintage; Reissue edition, October 23, 1989) Originally published 1947.
Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left. — Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited (Vintage, 2006)