Quotes About Death

Science gives man ever greater powers but less significance. It gives him better tools with less purposes. It is silent on origins, values, and ultimate aims. It gives life and history no meaning or worth that is not canceled by time and death.

It is clear that as our walking is admittedly nothing but a constantly-prevented falling, so the life of our bodies is nothing but a constantly-prevented dying, an ever-postponed death."86

You were born out of death - and will collapse back into its entropic embrace. The future is yet to be born, the past is ashes - and the present expires even as we cradle it to our wanting breast.

In death there are smaller premises, littler ironies.

a bonnet full of black feathers, as if a raven had wandered onto her hat and died of pure wretchedness.

I was in awe of death then, and now after many years and experiences, still am. I have never grown jaded about it. One minute we are sentient beings and the next, fodder for worms.

The question is not why should we change but rather what sort of death wish are we promoting by refusing to change?

For I dance And drink and sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength and breath And the want Of thought is death Then am I A happy fly If I live Or if I die

Little Fly Thy summers play, My thoughtless hand Has brush'd away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink & sing: Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength & breath: And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die

He who mocks the infant's faith Shall be mock'd in age and death. He who shall teach the child to doubt The rotting grave shall ne'er get out. He who respects the infant's faith Triumphs over hell and death. The child's toys and the old man's reasons Are the fruits of the two seasons. - Auguries of Innocence

Love is the child that breathes our breath. Love is the child that scatters death.

A happy fly If I live Or if I die

Los Sexos nacidos del Orgullo y la Vergüenza florecieron en la mañana y en la noche murieron; mas la Piedad cambió la Muerte en Sueño; los Sexos se irguieron para obrar y llorar.

Art is the Tree of Life, Science is the Tree of Death.

The Ruins of Time builds Mansions in Eternity. (Letter to William Hayley, on the occasion of the death of Hayley's son)

Without a use this shining woman lived - Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms.

Because I was happy upon the heath, And smiled among the winter's snow, They clothed me in the clothes of death, And taught me to sing the notes of woe

Terrified at Non Existence, for such they deemd the death of the body, Los his vegetable hands outstretch'd; his right hand branching out in fibrous Strength siez'd the Sun; his left hand like dark roots cover'd the Moon, and tore them down, cracking the heavens across from immense to immense.

The death of Jesus set me free Then what have I to do with thee?

A little black thing among the snow Crying 'weep, 'weep, in notes of woe! Where are thy father & mother? say? They are both gone up to the church to pray. Because I was happy upon the heath, And smil'd among the winter's snow; They clothed me in the clothes of death, And taught me to sing the notes of woe. And because I am happy, & dance & sing, They think they have done me no injury, And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King, Who make up a heaven of our misery.

Every kindness to another is a little death in the divine image.

Because I was happy upon the heath, And smiled among the winter's snow, They clothed me in the clothes of death, And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

I will not endure this thing! I alone withstand to death, This outrage! Ah me! how sick & pale you all stand round me! Ah me! pitiable ones! do you also go the deaths vale? All you my Friends & Brothers! all you my beloved Companions! Have you also caught the infection of Sin & stern Repentance? I see Disease arise upon you! yet speak to me and give Me some comfort: why do you all stand silent? I alone Remain in permanent strength.

Death is hidden away from us in our century – it's become something secret that happens in hospitals or morgues. We only see it on a screen – filtered, lit, factitious.