Ellie Snyder

The last thing anyone wants to hear in the midst of the pain of loss is ‘life goes on. You have to move on with it’. So instead hear this: as time progresses, the wound will inevitably heal. You needn’t force it, just let yourself mend. You will. You will mend.

Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it.

A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid anymore.

My world is being remade, my love rebuilt fuller than ever, magnified by having beaten silently against its oppression, ready to manifest itself everywhere. I am ready to find love again and plunge into it, whole of body, mind, and heart.

Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.

Love–and all it’s complicated ramifications, Draeger believed–actually does conquer all; Love–or the Fear of Not Having It, or the Worry about Not Having Enough of It, or the Terror of Losing It–certainly does conquer all.

Truth doesn’t run on time like a commuter train, though time may run on truth. And the Scenes Gone By and the Scenes to Come flow blending together in the sea-green deep while Now spreads in circles on the surface.

Was love then like a bag of assorted sweets passed around from which one might choose more than once? Some might sting the tongue, some invoke night perfume. Some had centers as bitter as gall, some blended honey and poison, some were quickly swallowed. And among the common bull’s-eyes and peppermints a few rare ones; one or two with deadly needles at the heart, another that brought calm and gentle pleasure. Were his fingers closing on that one?

…if a bird with a broken neck could fly away, what else might be possible? Water may be older than light, diamonds crack in hot goat’s blood, mountaintops give off cold fire, forests appear in mid-ocean, it may happen that a crab is caught with the shadow of a hand on its back, and that the wind be imprisoned in a bit of knotted string. And it may be that love sometimes occurs without pain or misery.

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside of them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.

“There are always a few such people who demand the utmost of life and yet cannot come to terms with its stupidity and crudeness.”

Your soul has fallen to bits and pieces. Good. Rearrange them to suit yourself.