pity the living
and most of all,
pity those who live without love.
for whatever reason, J.K. Rowling has a way of making me feel comfortable with mortality.
she did it first in harry's talk with nearly headless nick after sirius's death:
I was afraid of death [...] I chose to remain behind. I sometimes wonder whether I oughtn't to have ... well, that is neither here nor there ... in fact, I am neither here nor there [...] I know nothing of the secrets of death, Harry, for I chose my feeble imitation of life instead. (38.166)
and.. that's all I got.
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