Quote by Sibella Giorello

“But she feared time itself... the dwindling of life; how year by year her share was sliced; how, little the margin that remained was…

— Virginia Woolf

“Oh her deathbed, when her hands could no longer weave or paint or mold clay, she'd told stories and filled them with the colors…

— Veronica Rossi

“She couldn’t go looking for loss. Of any kind. Because it would awaken those old feelings, the ones she kept tightly coiled inside, the…

— B.A. Shapiro

“I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted…

— Roman Payne

“But for reasons she would never be able to articulate to anyone, herself included, she took a few steps more into the despairing darkness…

— Casey Fisher

“And yet in her eyes there was something unreadable, something that did not want to be read, the determined blankness that in predator animals…

— Michael Chabon

“And were you cornered by her, eye to eye, you would see that there are still some watchful creatures whose essence lies unbound by…

— Toby Barlow

“Humans were temporal. They aged and, eventually, died. And while she could have dwelled on her tendency to morbidly fixate on this quality, she…

— Marilyn Brant

“The only thing left to her keeping were a bloody old rag and a creased photograph of the ocean which she held pressed to…

— Robert Gatewood

“Her departure was a gradual thing, like a watercolor left in the sun, every day fainter until one day the canvas was bare and…

— Catherine McKenzie

“She had learnt a painful lesson, she thought – that as they die, the ones we love, we lose our witnesses, our watchers, those…

— Anne Rice

“She'd opened the front cover and fallen inside the wonderful, frightening, magical illustrations. She'd wondered what it must feel like to escape the rigid…

— Kate Morton