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“End is the end of your thinking and reasoning. End is not the end of endings.”
Wilson M. Mukama“That was the end of his driving.. That was the end of his walking free.. That was the end of his privacy.. And that was the end of his secret.”
Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie“You get towards the end of life - no, not life itself, but of something else: the end of any likelihood of change in that life. You are allowed a long moment of pause, time enough to ask the question: what else have I done wrong?”
Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending“Chin up, Ferdinand," I kept saying to myself, to keep up my courage. "What with being chucked out of everywhere, you're sure to find whatever it is that scares all those bastards so. It must be at the end of the night, and that's why they're so dead set against going to the end of the night.”
Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey to the End of the Night“I've decided I don't like books that end with 'The End'. The fact that there are no more pages, suggests to me that the book has ended.”
Wayne Gerard Trotman“In the end, if we don't have God we don't have anything other than an end.”
Craig D. Lounsbrough“I have a story to tell you. It has many beginnings, and perhaps one ending. Perhaps not. Beginnings and endings are contingent things anyway; inventions, devices. Where does any story really begin? There is always context, always an encompassingly greater epic, always something before the described events, unless we are to start every story with “BANG! Expand! Sssss…,” then itemize the whole subsequent history of the universe before settling down, at last, to the particular tale in question. Similarly, no ending is final, unless it is the end of all things…”
Iain M. Banks, The Algebraist“The end is never the end. It's always the the beginning of something.”
Kate Lord Brown, The Perfume Garden“A verbal trap; after the end there is nothing, since if there were something, the end would not be the end. Nonetheless, we are always setting forth to meet…, even though we know that there is nothing, or no one, awaiting us. We go along, without a fixed itinerary, yet at the same time with an end (what end?) in mind, and with the aim of reaching the end. A search for the end, a dread of the end: the obverse and the reverse of the same act. Without this end that constantly eludes us we would not journey forth, nor would there be any paths. But the end is the refutation and the condemnation of the path: at the end the path dissolves, the meeting fades away to nothingness. And the end—it too fades away to nothingness.”
Octavio Paz, The Monkey Grammarian