“There’s a hollow where he used to be, and it echoes with self-imposed loss.”
“It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.”
“I used to write as an escape. There’s no escape. There’s just me sending my voice into the dark, waiting for an echo." – Laird Barron”
“When you walk, you make an echo where they used to be.”
“For echo is the soul of the voice exciting itself in hollow places.”
“I merely feel emptyness. A hollow of dead brush where flowers use to bloom.”