#do not go gentle into that good night

sorry for all the depressing stuff lately, I’m just trying to deal with things

Irene - “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe

I was a child and she was a child,

  In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

  I and my Annabel Lee

Seulgi - “Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines” by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

Wendy - “Eurydice” by H.D.

so for your arrogance

I am broken at last,

I who had lived unconscious,

who was almost forgot

Joy - “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Yeri - “Pretty” by Stevie Smith

Cry pretty, pretty, pretty and you’ll be able   

Very soon not even to cry pretty

And so be delivered entirely from humanity   

This is prettiest of all, it is very pretty.

really wish my brain would actually let me be happy for once

dali-daydreams:

When you’ve dedicated your life to words, it’s important to go out eloquently.

1. Ernest Hemingway: “Goodnight my kitten.” Spoken to his wife before he killed himself.
2. Jane Austen: “I want nothing but death.” In response to her sister, Cassandra, who was asking her if she wanted anything.
3. J.M Barrie: “I can’t sleep.”
   
4. L. Frank Baum: “Now I can cross the shifting sands.”
5. Edgar Allan Poe: “Lord help my poor soul.”
6. Thomas Hobbes: “I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap into the dark,”
   
7. Alfred Jarry: “I am dying…please, bring me a toothpick.”
8. Hunter S. Thompson: “Relax — this won’t hurt.”
9. Henrik Ibsen: “On the contrary!”
10. Anton Chekhov: “I haven’t had champagne for a long time.”
11. Mark Twain: “Good bye. If we meet—” Spoken to his daughter Clara.
12. Louisa May Alcott: “Is it not meningitis?” Alcott did not have meningitis, though she believed it to be so. She died from mercury poison.
13. Jean Cocteau: “Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me, without hurrying.”
14. Washington Irving: “I have to set my pillows one more night, when will this end already?”
15. Leo Tolstoy: “But the peasants…how do the peasants die?”
16. Hans Christian Andersen: “Don’t ask me how I am! I understand nothing more.”
17. Charles Dickens: “On the ground!” He suffered a stroke outside his home and was asking to be laid on the ground.
18. H.G. Wells: “Go away! I’m all right.” He didn’t know he was dying.
19. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: “More light.”
20. W.C. Fields: “Goddamn the whole fucking world and everyone in it except you, Carlotta!” “Carlotta” was Carlotta Monti, actress and his mistress.
21. Voltaire: “Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies.” When asked by a priest to renounce Satan.
22. Dylan Thomas: “I’ve had 18 straight whiskies…I think that’s the record.”
    
23. George Bernard Shaw: “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”
24. Henry David Thoreau: “Moose…Indian.”
25. James Joyce: “Does nobody understand?”
26. Oscar Wilde: “Either the wallpaper goes, or I do.” 
27. Bob Hope: “Surprise me.” He was responding to his wife asking where he wanted to be buried.
28. Roald Dahl’s last words are commonly believed to be “you know, I’m not frightened. It’s just that I will miss you all so much!” which are the perfect last words. But, after he appeared to fall unconscious, a nurse injected him with morphine to ease his passing. His actual last words were a whispered “ow, fuck”
29. Salvador Dali hoped his last words would be “I do not believe in my death,” but instead, they were actually, “Where is my clock?”
30. Emily Dickinson: “I must go in, the fog is rising.”

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

-Dylan Thomas