Quotes About Finality

Nothing is a matter of life and death except life and death.

And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act of thy life as if it were the last.

There's only one thing that we have to do in life, and that is to die.

Life is but sighs; and, when they cease, 'tis over.

Love is the last light spoken.

Come on up, boys -I'm dead.

After the first death, there is no other.

And the whole pain flows open and I die.

I hate it when things are unfinished.

It was the closing of a book that would never be read again, and better close such a book than leave it lying about to get dirtied.

Mind you do your dying right! Most of us only get one chance at it.

a book with a bookmark inside implies someone has merely gone away, and will be back to finish it soon. Removing the bookmark takes on a horrible finality

Though last not least.

The question was not whether the world would end but how soon the end would come.

This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot.

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Everything has an end.

Res iudicata pro veritate habetur [A matter that has been legally decided is considered true].

Finis coronat opus [The end crowns the work].

Maybe that's enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom...is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.

Why, Esther wonders, do any of us believe our lives lead outward through time? How do we know we aren't continually traveling inward, toward our centers? Because this is how it feels to Esther when she sits on her deck in Geneva, Ohio, in the last spring of her life; it feels as if she is being drawn down some path that leads deeper inside, toward a miniature, shrouded, final kingdom that has waited within her all along.

Death can seem so final, like a blade dropped through the neck. But the nature of death is not at all final. It is not some dark cliff off which we leap. I hope to show you it is merely a fog, something we can peer into and out of, something we can know and face and not necessarily fear. By each life taken from our collective lives we are diminished. But even in death we have much to celebrate. It is only a transition, like so many others.

Doesn't everything," he says, "die at last and too soon?

Death's success rate has been 100% so far, yet we still choose to call it a mystery.