Every atom in me feels composed of lead. This is what dying is: a pull to the ground.
Sonya HartnettI am dying: it's a beautiful word. Like the long slow sigh of the cello: dying. But the sound of it is the only beautiful thing about it.
Sonya HartnettShe doesn't understand that doors, walls, fences, ceilings - they're helpless to keep out what determinedly desires to get in.
Sonya Hartnett