Dolly Parton and Tim Curry dying within roughly a day of each other has had an adverse effect on my peace of mind. Starts you asking questions like “why do good people die when evil ****s seem to be thriving?”

For both Parton and Curry, you could simply say “I love (their) voice,” as her sweet country croon and his slippery posh velvet-tones were undeniably gripping. Then, their smiles. Dolly always looked like she was about to hand you kindness; Curry had the broad, insinuating grin that made his being born in Cheshire seem a tad on-the-nose.

Both were beloved, and built to last. Both are deeply missed. If these things do come in threes, I don’t know if our collective hearts can take whatever is next.