Death Quotes - Page 111

So your High Priest and Sacerdote propose to kill Death.” Edroc

Then, when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I see it. And I knew, only then, that I’m truly in Heaven.

Waking up in a room with no natural light does something to a man. no windows. I’m almost afraid to die. I fear my soul won’t make it out.

Suicide is an attack on society--an attack on its omnipotence, on its denial of death, and on its own despair.

There will come a time,' I said, 'when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this' - I gestured encompassingly - 'will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that's what everyone else does.

If I believe, truly believe our soulsare meant to cross paths, in each andevery life, traversing millennia and repeatingthis sweet interaction time and time againThen what is one lifetimewhere those interactions arecut short- For the Departed

In greatness, life and death merge.

Was it hard? I hope she didn't die hard.'Sethe shook her head. 'Soft as cream. Being alive was the hard part.

It is a horrible, terrible thing, the worst thing, to watch somebody you love die right in front of you and not be able to do nothing about it.

You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.

If life is worth living for so is it worth dying.

Suffering creates a vivid contrast illuminating joy, happiness, and satisfaction. It is a harsh lesson on the other side of sublime. We all must suffer, whether we choose to or not. There must be value in that which is given in our lives, even though we hope and try to live joyfully and enjoy our brief time on earth.

If we all knew each morning that there was going to be another morning, and on and on and on, we's tend not to notice the sunrise, or hear the birds, or the waves rolling into the shore. We'd tend not to treasure our time with the people we love. Simply the awareness that our mortal lives had a beginning and will have an end enhances the quality of our living. Perhaps it's even more intense when we know that the termination of the body is near, but it shouldn't be.

In actuality, it was like the homes of all people who are not really rich but who want to look rich, and therefore end up looking like one another: it had damasks, ebony, plants, carpets, and bronzes, everything dark and gleaming—all the effects a certain class of people produce so as to look like people of a certain class. And his place looked so much like the others that it would never have been noticed, though it all seemed quite exceptional to him.

Does it make you brave to stick your hand in a bear's mouth? Would you do it again just because you didn't die?

Only death consistently excites your emotions, whether contemplating when life is safe and stale, or fleeing it when life is threatened and precious

Disappointment is like a death! In most cases both are not preplanned. They both come when they will come. Only that the former builds up experiences by the latter stops all form of experiences.

The scariest thing about death is not dying, it's the uncertainty of what happens after

The dusty tombs of long-dead exorcist priests lay in the alcoves below, surmounted by stone effigies, the features eroded by the passing of time and the reverent caresses of their grateful parishioners, a reminder, she knew all too well, of the brevity of life.

YOU WERE MY FAVORITE THING AND IN IMAGINATION YOUR DEATH WILL NOT EXIST IT IS ALL 'AS IF' FROM NOW ONAS IF YOU ARE NOT GONEYOU WILL BE THE GIRL BESIDE MENEVER MORE THAN A HEARTBEAT LENGTH AWAYTHE WOMAN WHO WILL BE THE HILL OF MY BED A CLIMB TO THE TOPAND SUCH VIEWS TO MAKE LITTLE THINGS OFLITTLE US THAT WILL BE PART YOU AND PART MEAND WHOLE IN THOSE TWO THINGSAS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE AND WILL BE WITH ME TO GET THE WRINKLES THE WHITE HAIRTHE SPINE SHAPED LIKE A ROCKING CHAIRAS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE AND SO WILL HAVE THE LOVE OF GOING IN MY ARMSWARM AND WITH MEYES, YOU ARE MY FAVORITE THINGYOU ALWAYS WILL BE.

Sometimes at night when the moon is almost full and my hands go numb from writing, I cleanse myself of her poisoned love. I welcome the water, the inevitability of death and embrace the long painful road out of love.

Do you understand what I'm saying?"shouted Moist. "You can't just go around killing people!""Why Not? You Do." The golem lowered his arm."What?" snapped Moist. "I do not! Who told you that?""I Worked It Out. You Have Killed Two Point Three Three Eight People," said the golem calmly."I have never laid a finger on anyone in my life, Mr Pump. I may be–– all the things you know I am, but I am not a killer! I have never so much as drawn a sword!""No, You Have Not. But You Have Stolen, Embezzled, Defrauded And Swindled Without Discrimination, Mr Lipvig. You Have Ruined Businesses And Destroyed Jobs. When Banks Fail, It Is Seldom Bankers Who Starve. Your Actions Have Taken Money From Those Who Had Little Enough To Begin With. In A Myriad Small Ways You Have Hastened The Deaths Of Many. You Do Not Know Them. You Did Not See Them Bleed. But You Snatched Bread From Their Mouths And Tore Clothes From Their Backs. For Sport, Mr Lipvig. For Sport. For The Joy Of The Game.

If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories."Fire corrected him, in a whisper. "The good memories.

It wasn't his, it wasn't my fault,we both had nothing except patience,but Death has none. I saw him come (how meanly!)and I watched him as he took and took:none of it I could claim as mine.

Dark Fae are evil. They do evil things to each other, but there is an unspoken rule that you never harm family."tShe held him tighter, wishing she could take away his pain with a hug. "Families hurt each other all the time.

The murder of a child has no justification, even if the bombs have missed their mark.

From all these friends, I could not escape learning some of the statistics that I preferred not to know. Forty-one people at the mall had been wounded. Nineteen had died. Everyone said it was a miracle that only nineteen perished. What has gone wrong with our world when nineteen dead can seem like any kind of miracle?

Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.

I came to understand the most intriguing irony of life, that the most intimate partner of life is death. (Page 94)

America was, to them, the place that good people went to when they died. They were prepared to believe just about anything could happen in America.

But thoughts the slave of life, and life, Time’s fool,And Time, that takes survey of all the world,Must have a stop.

Suffering is universal. It's the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about

We're not words, Henry, we're people.Words are how others define us, but we can define ourselves any way we choose.

Sluka shook her head. "We're talking about them in the past tense, and we never even discussed them in the present. It's like their only reason for existing was so they could die.

Death, everyone fears it in one way or another but when I stood in front of it myself, face to face, I felt no fear.

Dead or not, I have come for his heart and I will have it.

When the clock stops on a life, all things emanating from it become precious, finite, and cordoned off for preservation. Each aspect of the dead person is removed from the flux of the everyday, which, of course, is where we miss him most. The quarantine around death makes it feel unlucky and wrong--a freakish incursion--and the dead, thus quarantined, come to seem more dead than they already are.... Borrowing from the dead is a way of keeping them engaged in life's daily transactions--in other words, alive.

Life is the death of all of us.' - Tristan

I can see wherecreation oftenstops while thebody still livesand oftendoes not careto.the death of lifebefore lifedies.

How did I picture the life after the grave? I fairly bawled out at him: "A life in which I can remember this life on earth. That's all I want of it.

I am the beast with a contorted grin, contracting down to illusion and dilating toward infinity, both growing and dying, delightfully suspended between hope for nothing and despair of everything, brought up among perfumes and poisons, consumed with love and hatred, killed by lights and shadows. My symbol is death of light and the flame of death. Sparks die in me only to be reborn as thunder and lightning. Darkness itself glows in me.

Do not go to my grave. Mary knows, I am not there. Look for me in between pages and on people’s lips.Do not go to my old school. Do not go to my old house —I am not in any of those places. Look for me in your hearts and greet me there.

My parents say you’re no good, Elijah.” I exhaled and killed the cigarette in the grass.Laughing, Eli’s eyes went to my lips and his hands touched my bare midriff. “Really? And what do you say?”He had brought his lips so close to mine that it became hard to think about my next words when all I wanted to do was crush my mouth to his. I wanted him to completely consume me. “I think you’re broken,” I finally got out, and Eli arched a brow. “But I think I’m broken too. I just don’t know it yet.

Death, he felt, was only a kind of warning rather than a desperate and permanent end.

Dying is the fastest route to fame for an aspiring rock star. The dead man’s melodies become profound, acquiring deep mystery and rising into a realm beyond the reach of human criticism. In the stopping of a heartbeat, the rocker is transformed from decadent, depraved hedonist into misunderstood genius. Aye, death and musical stardom go together like Scotland and rain.

It is said that when a person is experiencing death, and when shards of life begins to disintegrate from his mortal body, he starts getting a flashback of his entire life right in front of his eyes, like a reverie – a dream, or sometimes even a nightmare. When a person is dying, he can get a brief look of all the significant milestones of his life right in front of his eyes, as if time doesn’t exist and he is still right there, in that moment, where everything is possible; where he can get a piece of forever, while living in that uninvited flashback, and dying in his life, both at the same time.

Fate is the same for the man who holds back, the same if he fights hard.We are all held in a single honour, the brave with the weaklings.A man dies still if he has done nothing, as one who has done much.

Everything we hold will soon elapse,as we’ll sleep through one dreamless night;but rising again to this dream, whether we’ll behiding behind our darkness or this borrowed light?- Thou little fool

A girl is just like a movie, you want to know what happends next, and how it will end...

All around us is a nothing that stretches on for infinity. We humans can barely comprehend that. If we comprehend it we are rarely pleased.

Thinking of death--strange, beautiful, terrible and a long way off--made me feel happier than ever.

Wasn't there only one respectable memento of a man worth keeping, the kind that draws Valentines and learns to spell Mississippi?

I carry the seeds of death within me and plant them wherever I linger long enough to love.

He was going to die soon, you knew when you saw those eyes. There was no sign of life in his flesh, just the barest traces of what had once been a life. His body was like a dilapidated old house from which all furniture and fixtures have been removed and which awaited now only its final demolition.

I choose to believe that my father is still alive, that he has survived death, outlived us all, and possesses the soul that goes on and lives forever; We just cannot see him yet, for we have not caught up with him. our time will come just as his did. and no matter how woeful and lost I was when he passed away, I know I will be glad to go to a place where I can see him, and know he is okay and happy. It’s just not my time yet and there is no way of knowing if any of it is true." - Jane Adams

Only.. I want to do die as myself

When you are fed with the spoon of betrayal, you can choose to spit it out and live or swallow it and die

The greatest violence, and the greatest threat to humanity, is the growth of MONEY.

War was the ultimate chaos, a pounding, soul-destroying snarl, ending in blown-apart men lying unburied on the cold earth. There was nothing more cosmically chaotic than war.

We are taught to fear anything that can bring us closer to death — to keep us from taking huge leaps that involve risk. The only thing you should fear in this lifetime is not taking risks while you are living. I do not mean to go jump off a bridge. I mean, to go all out to reach your dreams, to dare to do things you typically would not do out of fear. Pain has a threshold and so does death. Fear neither, and never fear what has no right to be feared.