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Quote by Gift Gugu Mona

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A Manual for Victory

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Gift Gugu Mona

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“Bilba opened her eyes, and Fili was standing directly in front of her. The last thread broke. She'd spent years building walls around the hollow left by Ravenhill. There had always been cracks, even breaches over the years, but she'd endured, fortified them again and continued on. It wasn't until she'd opened her eyes again in Bag End that the walls had turned brittle, and it wasn't until she'd laid eyes on him once more that they'd started to fall. And it wasn't until that very moment, when his eyes sliced into her soul, that the final wall fell completely. And, just like that, the wound was open and the truth she'd tried so hard to ignore was pouring. It had always been there, seeping out through cracks, bleeding into her veins, poisoning her sleep and freezing her days. The truth, that the hollow inside her wasn't so hollow after all. It was full, always had been full, always would be full, and with one thing and one thing only. The knowledge of how deeply and irrevocably in love she was with this son of Durin. As much as that first day. As much as the last. Every breath, every beat of her heart cried out with the depth of her love for someone lost to her forever. All that love falling forever into emptiness, a void deeper than the one opened in her soul the moment she'd watched him die.”

LoveLossGriefShe Walks In ShadowFiliHeart Shattering
Author:ISeeFire
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“That was it. Just…fate. No grand scheme, no conscious decision one way or the other, her father wasn't a coward or apathetic, he hadn't chosen to leave them to die in Moria…nothing. It simply was. Her father should have come. Her father would have come. Her father could have come. Would have, should have, could have….. Didn't. The end. Done.”

LossGriefHeart ShatteringDwalin
Book:Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
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“Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the Rocks, Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow Rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing Madrigals. And I will make thee beds of Roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty Lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and Ivy buds, With Coral clasps and Amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love. The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May-morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love.”

LoveDeathGriefEternityBed Of RosesTvd
Book:The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
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“Grief is a river you wade in until you get to the other side. But I am here, stuck in the middle, water parting around my ankles, moving downstream over the flat rocks. I'm not able to lift a foot, move on. Instead, I'm going to stay here in the shallows with my sorrow, nurture it like a cranky baby, rock it in my arms. I don't want it to grow up, go to school, get married. It's mine. Yes, the October sunlight wraps me in its yellow shawl, and the air is sweet as a golden Tokay. On the other side, there are apples, grapes, walnuts, and the rocks are warm from the sun. But I'm going to stand here, growing colder, until every inch of my skin is numb. I can't cross over. Then you really will be gone.”

LossGriefMourning
Book:Gold
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