Quotes About Dead

To be alive, to be man alive, to be whole man alive: that is the point. And at its best, the novel, and the novel supremely, can help you. It can help you not to be dead man in life.

Go. Go to your beautiful dances, your beautiful ceremonies. And we will bury our dead.

This is why it is often called sovereign grace: it raises the dead. The dead do not raise themselves. God does by his grace. And it is this "glorious grace" that will be praised for all eternity.

Those who felt this sensation of awe, could not explain whence it arose: some attributed it to the dead grey eye, which, fixing upon the object's face, did not seem to penetrate, and at one glance to pierce through to the inward workings of the heart; but fell upon the cheek with a leaden ray that weighed upon the skin it could not pass.

We of the Plains believe that our dead travel with us, ride along beside us, unseen and unknown, but knowing and seeing... Until the longest night. On that night, we mourn our dead, who are released to journey to the stars.

Depression is about as close as you get to somewhere between dead and alive, and it's the worst.

Phoebe stared into his blue eyes. "What would you do if you ran away from a wedding in a car that didn't belong to you and discovered a body in the trunk about the time a sheriff's deputy rolled up behind you?" She flung her hand in the air, and assumed a high-pitched, sarcastic tone. "Hi, I'm a rich man's daughter with a dead man in my trunk. Could you help me get him out so I can be on my merry way?

Only fools and the dead never change their mind.

O little hour of Love, so wild and sweet! I gave the world, thy honey-dew to eat; And now the tear-sown pathway of the dead Echoes the patter of thy flying feet.

The sexual roles were so deeply rooted among the warrior aristocracy that the two sexes had different realms for the dead in pagan times (cf. p. 156).

There is for life lots of hope/help for every living human. Oh! Yes, it's only the dead that is hopeless/helpless.

Why can I never go back to bed? Who's is the voice ringing in my head? Where is the sense in these desperate dreams? Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?

At precisely zero hours UT, or midnight Universal Time, the image of the tortured man erupted onto the world's most popular Web site. The first six words he spoke would be remembered forever by everyone who heard them. "I am dead. I was murdered."

Glory is the sun of the dead.

Ultimately, though, it's living people that frighten me the most. It's always seemed to me that nothing could be scarier than a person, because as dreadful places can be, they're still just places; and no matter how awful ghosts might seem, they're just dead people. I always thought that the most terrifying things anyone could ever think up were the things living people came up with.

The Empire had no political cohesion, no capital city, no common laws, common finances, or common officials. It was the relic of a dead ideal.

Only the Lord of Change has endless sway. The vanished Love of our dead yesterday.

Lo que queremos hacer es crear una conexión entre el mundo que percibimos con nuestros sentidos y el mundo del arte, el de los muertos, el que no podemos ver.

I had a head start in acting. Because of my parents, I had a SAG card, an agent and a recognizable name. But I knew if I screwed up, people would never forget. I'd be dead.

I am still librarian in your house, for I never was dismissed, and never gave up the office. Now I am librarian here as well.' 'But you have just told me you were sexton here!' 'So I am. It is much the same profession. Except you are a true sexton, books are but dead bodies to you, and a library nothing but a catacomb!

Our moon, he answered, is not like yours-the old cinder of a burnt-out world; her beams embalm the dead, not corrupt them.

It is foolish to say that after a certain age a man can not alter. That some men can not--or will not, (God only can draw the line between those two nots) I allow; but the cause is not age, and it is not universal. The man who does not care and ceases to grow, becomes torpid, stiffens, is in a sense dead; but he who has been growing all the time need never stop; and where growth is, there is always capability of change: growth itself is a succession of slow, melodious, ascending changes.

A flush of anger crimsoned the old lady's pale face. It looked dead no longer. Hold your tongue, she said. You are rude. And Miss Gladwyn did hold her tongue, but nothing else, for she was laughing all over.

And when we met amid the shadows, we were wrapped in the mantle of love, and from its folds looked out fearless on the ghostly world about us. Ghosts or none, they never annoyed us. Our love was a talisman, yea, an elixir of life, which made us equal to the twice-born—the disembodied dead. And they were as a wall of fear about us, to keep far off the unfriendly foot and the prying eye.