Quotes About Death

Well, this is a mystery," said Farder Coram, "and I'm glad I lived long enough to see it. To go into the dark of death is a thing we all fear, say what we like, we fear it. But if there's a way out for that part of us that has to go down there, then it makes my heart lighter.

Detrás de ellos había dolor, muerte, miedo; delante estaba el peligro, insondables misterios. Pero no estaban solos.

Somewhere out there is the origin of all the Dust, all the death, the sin, the misery, the destructiveness in the world. Human beings can't see anything without wanting to destroy it... That's original sin. And I'm going to destroy it.

I will love you forever, whatever happens. Till I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I'll drift about forever, all my atoms, till I find you again . . .

There's others who longed to be dead when they were alive, poor souls; lives full of pain or misery; killed themselves for a chance of a blessed rest, and found that nothing had changed except for the worse, and this time there was no escape; you can't make yourself alive again.

He said, Lyra, gal, it won't be long now. When you see that old bear, you tell him Lee went out fighting. And when the battle's over, there'll be all the time in the world to drift along the wind and find the atoms that used to be Hester, and my mother in the sagelands, and my sweethearts – all my sweethearts... Lyra, child, you rest when this is done, you hear? Life is good, and death is over...

Lyra was in tears. Her dear, her brave one, her fearless defender, was going to die, and she would not do him the treachery of looking away, for if he looked at her he must see her shining eyes and their love and belief, not a face hidden in cowardice or a shoulder fearfully turned away.

Muchas veces me he enamorado de la placentera muerte… John Keats

Your death taps you on the shoulder, or takes your hand, and says, come along o' me, it's time. It might happen when you're sick with a fever, or when you choke on a piece of dry bread, or when you fall off a high building; in the middle of your pain and travail, your death comes to you kindly and says easy now, easy, child, you come along o' me, and you go with them in a boat out across the lake into the mist. What happens there, no one knows. No one's ever come back.

In fact, it was that which killed him, to his great surprise.

It was the loneliness of his death that upset Malcolm most.

When we were alive, they told us that when we died we'd go to heaven. And they said that heaven was a place of joy and glory and we would spend eternity in the company of saints and angels praising the Almighty, in a state of bliss. That's what they said. And that's what led some of us to give our lives, and others to spend years in solitary prayer, while all the joy of life was going to waste around us, and we never knew.

It's so heartbreaking, violence, when it's in a house-like seeing the clothes in a tree after an explosion. You may be prepared to see death but not the clothes in the tree.

That can happen when people die, the argument with them drops away and people so flawed while they were drawing breath that at times they were all but unbearable now assert themselves in the most appealing way, and what was least to your liking the day before yesterday becomes in the limousine behind the hearse a cause not only for sympathetic amusement but for admiration

And he couldn't do it. He could not fucking die. How could he leave? How could he go? Everything he hated was here.

The profusion of the stars told him unambiguously that he was doomed to die

He couldn't do it. He could not fucking die. How could he leave? How could he go? Everything he hated was here.

Nessuno dei pezzi di musica seria che aveva ascoltato per tutta la vita adulta gli dava la stessa emozione che ora provava ascoltando il vecchio swing: -Quel po' di stoicismo che ho dentro se ne va, e il desiderio di non morire, di non morire mai, si fa quasi insopportabile.

è la mancanza di rabbia che finisce per uccidere. Mentre l'aggressività depura e guarisce.

And he couldn't do it. He could not fucking die. How could he leave? How could he go? Everything he hated was here.

Çünkü herkes gibi onun da ba??na gelecek. Çünkü hayat?n en rahats?z edici gücü, ölümdür. Çünkü ölüm çok adaletsizdir. Çünkü insan bir defa yaÅŸam?n tad?na var?nca ölüm dahi gözükmez ona...

You can store us like shoes or ship us like lettuce. The simpleton who invented the coffin was a poetic genius and a great wit.

Dejó de beber. Eso lo mató. No podía soportarlo, pero lo había prometido

Not one of the creatures of blood can escape death. We all face it, and succumb to it. It follows us like a dark shadow. Yet if we live in terror of it, then we do not live at all. Yes we are born alone, and yes we will die alone. But in between, Tae, we live. We know joy.