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“In all these sights I achieve solace only in bringing forth trees, picturing them blooming like smoke from the roofs of gutted buildings, dreaming of what a fine and picturesque pile of rubble this city will someday make.”
― Tod Wodicka, All Shall Be Well; And All Shall Be Well; And All Manner of Things Shall Be Well

“I have no emotions. I just stand there, in the rubble of my life.
Thisâ€� this was my home. If it were a person, this would be a gaping chest wound, the kind no one can recover from.”
― Beth Revis, The Body Electric

“Suddenly finding myself imprisoned in the ruins of the fortresses I created, I realize that that which I built to protect me has now become a labyrinth that is set to destroy me. And laying spent in the rubble, I finally realize that there is only one fortress and I cannot create it because there is only one God.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Yesterday is a pile of rubble. Today is a pile of opportunity. Life takes a new dump each morning”
― Ryan Lilly

“I could attempt to Great Escape the rubble out bit by bit in the trash, but that would take who knows how long”
― Matt Puchalski, A Pandemic Gardening Journal

“We collected our things from our quarters---the ones that had been assigned to us and the ones we had adopted--- and I gathered up all my notes that would slowly metamorphose into The Extinction of Irena Rey. Maybe Grey Eminence was right that writing has to be an engine of extinction. But the first to inhabit a traumatized landscape are often fungi, lichen, slime molds, and species of plants known as "ruderal," a word that derives from the Latin word for "rubble." Maybe the extinction of Irena Rey made the space for a ruderal art, like a book about what happened to her translators.”
― Jennifer Croft, The Extinction of Irena Rey