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Quote by Maggie Shipstead

“One thing I've learned is that you don't just love a person, you love a vision of your life with them. And then you have to mourn both. [Jamie Graves]”

Book:Great Circle

Work

Great Circle

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Author

Maggie Shipstead

Maggie Shipstead is an American author born in 1983. Her works are known for their delicate emotional descriptions and profound thematic explorations. Her debut novel, 'The Kapua‘a', was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize in 2011 and won the O. Henry Prize. Shipstead's writing often focuses on family, identity, and deep questions about human existence. more

“Nothing changed, in the aftermath of loss. Songs kept getting written. Books kept getting read. Wars didn't stop....Life renewed itself, over and over, without sympathy. Time surged on in its usual rhythms, those comings and goings, beginnings and ends, sensible progressions that fixed things in place, without a thought to the whistling in the woods on the outskirts of town....”

Loss Grief Passage Of Time

Book:The Lamplighters

Source: The Lamplighters

“I was the baby of the family. Now I don’t have anybody to show off for anymore.”

Loss Grief

Book:Timequake

Source: Timequake

“Every loss creates a void. If you try to fill it, you will fill it with garbage. If you let time fill it, it will be filled with normal stuff. If you don't let it fill, God will call out to you through it. Then you will begin the journey to find Him.”

Pain Religion Spirituality Loss Void

Author:Shunya

“I close my eyes and all I can think of is red. So I get a tube of watercolour, cadmium red dark, and I get a big mop of a brush, and I fill a jar with water, and I begin to cover the paper with red. It glistens. The paper is limp with moisture, and it darkens as it dries. I watch it drying. It smells of gum arabic. In the centre of the paper, very small, in black ink, I draw a heart, not a silly Valentine but an anatomically-correct heart, tiny, doll-like, and then veins, delicate road-map of veins, that reach all the way to the edges of the paper, that hold the small heart enmeshed like a fly in a spiderweb. See, there's his heartbeat.”