Quotes About Tragedy

Ditto for the eleven people killed in Antelope Canyon. Venturing into these canyons during the afternoon or evening is significantly more risky.

Harry Marsham, who was known as Marsh to his friends, should have died that night.

People who lose children have their hearts warped into weird shapes. Some try to deny it has happened. Some pretend it hasn't. Losing friends or parents is not the same. To lose a child is beyond comprehension. It defies biology. It contradicts the natural order of history and genealogy. It derails common sense. It violates time. It creates a huge, black, bottomless hole that swallows all hope.

We should wish our children full lives, jam-packed with triumph and tragedy, boredom and excitement, beautiful, messy, passionate and worth celebrating. I

People who lose children have their hearts warped into weird shapes. Losing a child is beyond comprehension. It defies biology. It contradicts the natural order of history and genealogy. It derails common sense. It violates time. It creates a huge, black, bottomless hole that swallows hope.

Green's first victim was found on the North York Moors, which is why the papers called him the 'Beast of Whitby'. He went on to rape and kill at least two more children, one of whom he lured into his van using kittens that he'd collected from a local animal shelter. He pleaded guilty to the murders, but died within a year, beaten to death in a prison exercise yard

In the presence of real tragedy you feel neither pain nor joy nor hatred, only a sense of enormous space and time suspended, the great doors open to black eternity, the rising across the terrible field of that enormous, unanswerable question.

In the presence of real tragedy you feel neither pain nor joy nor hatred, only a sense of enormous space and time suspended, the great doors open to black eternity, the rising across the terrible field of that last enormous, unanswerable question.

Drug overdoses are today the number one cause of accidental death in the United States as a result of America's historic addiction and overdose epidemic.* Overdose deaths rose from 17,415 in 2000 to 93,330 in 2020, a 536 percent increase.30 Significantly more people die of drug overdoses today than of homicide (13,927 in 2019) or car accidents (36,096 in 2019).31 The overdose crisis is worse in San Francisco than in other cities.

As Karl Marx once noted: ' Hegel remarks somewhere that all great, world-historical facts and personages occur, as it were, twice. He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second as farce.' William Jennings Bryan and the Scopes trial was a tragedy. The creationists and intelligent design theorists are a farce.

So that's it. That's the big secret. I tried to kill myself on New Year's eve. Just like Sadie did last night. Only she really did it. I don't know all the detatils, just the basics. She took a bunch of pills. I don't know what they were or where she got them. I'd like to think they were Wonder Drug. Then at least she could have gone thinking she was flying.

So much for Heather's first time," Sadie said in her normal voice. "She died a virgin. How sad.

L'ARBRE GEANT FREMISSAIT sous les coups de hache. A coté du colosse végétal, les hommes à la peau sombre, luisante de sueur, ressemblaient à des miniatures mouvantes. [...] La grande forêt pris le deuil. Les bruits les plus fantastiques se mirent à courir : on avait tué l'Arbre-Dieu.

Dans une guerre il n'y a ni vainqueurs ni vaincus: rien que des victimes.

quando voltei para a cama estava quase sereno, tanto quanto, no meio das nossas tragédias, nos tranquiliza a existência de outras a que fomos poupados.

Born and raised in France. Slaughtered in France.

Great beauty seems invariably to portend some tragic fate.

the path that those girls made us take was entirely fallacious, I should add that it was raining', as Nerval probably wrote somewhere; I hadn't often thought about Nerval lately, but he had hanged himself at the age of forty-six, and Baudelaire too had died at that age; it isn't an easy one.

The tragedy of banality, produced by ordinary circumstances, and therefore all the more inescapable, remains to be written.

Virgile est mort écrasé sous les pneus d'un tracteur agricole.

I was a queen, and you took away my crown; a wife, and you killed my husband; a mother, and you deprived me of my children. My blood alone remains: take it, but do not make me suffer long. —MARIE ANTOINETTE

Yes. I know all about how the French burned my people alive in cauldrons of molasses. How they mutilated and tortured Haitian prisoners, digging pits on the beach and waiting for the tide to roll in so they would drown. In Port-au-Prince," I tell them, "the emperor's soldiers invited all mulâtres to a ball. Then at the stroke of midnight, he announced that the men would be put to death. They killed them right there, in front of their wives.

I was becoming a tree rooted in the soil of tragedy, he said, and with every fresh reading I was watering the roots, sinking deeper, allowing my pain to grow stronger. "Plant your roots in fresh soil," he told me. And so my words were shut away.

Narrander is gestorven... Hij is omgekomen tijdens de grote brand.' 'Een ander is gestorven!' bulderde de Loper.