Quotes About Dead

Memory is a rare ghost-raiser. Like a haunted house, its walls are ever echoing to unseen feet. Through the broken casements we watch the flitting shadows of the dead, and the saddest shadows of them all are the shadows of our own dead selves.

we did decide to trust Christ, but the reason we made that decision is that God had first made us spiritually alive. ... God comes to us when we're spiritually dead, when we don't even realize our condition, and gives us the spiritual ability to see our plight and to see the solution in Christ. God comes all the way, not partway, to meet us in our need. When we were dead, He made us alive in Christ. And the first act of that new life is to turn in faith to Jesus.

She'll need to see another goddamn place, then, because the roaches have unionized and put a stop to further negotiations regarding new tenants. Also, I think I smell a dead body.

She'll need to see another goddamn place, then, because the roaches have unionized and put a stop to further negotiations regarding new tenants. Also, I think I smell a dead body.

Documentation is misleading, because the performance is dead. So the very early works were not documented at all.

Hello! Your dear father is unfortunately very dead," he called. "And you said my dispersal system would never work!

For many years, I hated nature. As a student, I refused to put a plant anywhere - a living plant, that is. Dead plants were OK.

I had the opportunity of making necropsies on patients dead from malignant fever and of studying the melanaemia, i.e., the formation of black pigment in the blood of patients affected by malaria.

In Egypt, the living were subordinate to the dead.

Desperation is the perfume of the young actor. It's so satisfying to have gotten rid of it. If you keep smelling it, it can drive you crazy. In this business a lot of people go nuts, go eccentric, even end up dead from it. Not my plan.

One who moderates the senses, also the God of the regions of the dead.

A church may have the bones of organization and sound theology. It may have the body of a large membership. But, if the breath of the Holy Spirit is not on it and in it, then it is only Sardis, having a name to be alive but dead.

It is a cumulative tragedy, the same tragedy that blights the entire country. With so many dead bodies, how do you begin to rebuild? How do you trust enough to hope? And how do you hold on to life when it no longer seems worth living?

Tears came from what remaining fluids their poor broken bodies still held in reserve. Tears flowed and froze against cold dead skin—for some, their last tears, for when their internal water was depleted the dead body would process no more. And they did not know it yet; if they did, would they save their tears?

That blur of light that just zoomed past us, by the way, is Hermes. I don't like that boy—and not just because he is a son of Zeus. He's the one who brings my wife to the upper world when it's time for her to visit her mom, Demeter (deh-mee-ter). Because of that job, Hermes ended up escorting all the dead to my realm. Not like they needed an escort, but still. It gave the hyperactive, thieving godling something to do. (Yeah, he's the god of thieves, so of course he's Zeus's son.)

There's a beauty of show business. It's the only business you can have a career in when you're dead.

Time. In another time. Either before or after. They were not stars, but fires. They were the souls of birds. They were entries into the vast fire. They were the eyes of the dead. And in the darkness they were imprisoned by them.

You know you've reached rock bottom when you're standing on the beach, looking to the horizon, and you don't notice you'r ankle-deep in dead fish.

To ensure that we don't merely exist in the dead present? ... That the oblivion of the now as opposed to the ecstasy of looking back--but wait, wait, if the present is the past, you fool, dissolving this very moment--then it is incumbent upon us now, now, to create the past--so obvious! so rudimentary!--it's the uncreated past that is dead [Walt Kaplan/August, Bedroom]

The first ghost to leave the world of the dead was Roger. He took a step forward, and turned to look back at Lyra, and laughed in surprise as he found himself turning into the night, the starlight, the air. . .and then he was gone, leaving behind such a vivid little burst of happiness.

The question was, she thought, was the universe alive or dead?

The accident of a wrong turn had brought me there, and all I did by getting out of the car and entering the cemetery to find her grave was to bow to its impelling force. My mother and the other dead had been brought here by the impelling force of what was, after all, a more unlikely accident–having once lived

Not a Saint!" Akasha proclaimed, in bricks. "This is the Tomb of God Incarnate!" "Always did figure that sucker was dead, muttered Waites.

There is a God to love and there is a God to fear, and He is one and the same! Did He not judge His own Son as a demonstration of His love for the world? And did He not then show His love for the Son He judged by raising Him from the dead? How silly to think that if He is a loving God, He cannot also be a fearsome God. The two attributes complement each other.