Quotes About Death

When a man dies, it's only him," he said. "And one is much like another. Aye, a family needs a man, to feed them, protect them. But any decent man can do it. A woman Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â His lips moved against my fingertips, a faint smile. "A woman takes life with her when she goes. A woman is Ã¢â'¬Â¦ infinite possibility." "Idiot," I said, very softly. "If you think one man is just like any other.

A trained surgeon is also a potential killer, and an important bit of the training lies in accepting the fact. Your intent is entirely benign - or at least you hope so - but your are laying violent hands on someone, and you must be ruthless in order to do it effectively. And sometimes the person under your hands will die, and knowing that . . . you do it anyway.

There was nothing frightening about the dead man; there never is. No matter how ugly the manner in which a man dies, it's only the presence of a suffering human soul that is horrifying; once gone, what is left is only an object

My God, he thought, I'm going to die before I've been born.

I was dead, my Sassenach – and yet all that time, I loved you.

Go to bed, Tom, he managed to say. Don't wake me in the morning. I plan to be dead.

When a man dies, it's only him," he said. "And one is much like another. Aye, a family needs a man, to feed them, protect them. But any decent man can do it. A woman Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â His lips moved against my fingertips, a faint smile. "A woman takes life with her when she goes. A woman is Ã¢â'¬Â¦ infinite possibility.

Sometimes a shadow rises, and death lies nameless in the dark.

Calmar el dolor y el miedo a la muerte servía para atenuar los propios temores.

All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a single death is the key to the gate that bars memory.

Seen without the suddenness of surprise, there was nothing frightening about the dead man; there never is. No matter how ugly the manner in which a man dies, it's only the presence of a suffering human soul that is horrifying; once gone, what is left is only an object.

All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a single death the key to the gate that bars memory.

It was what you did when someone died; turned toward God and at least acknowledge the fact.

I felt rather like the new moon: the shadow of pain and death was still clearly visible to me—but only because the light was there to throw it into perspective.

Christ, was he going to die in public, in a pleasure garden, in the company of a sodomite spy dressed like a rooster?

death walks at night in the aisles of a sick ward, searching for those whose defenses are lowered, who may stray unwittingly into its path through loneliness and fear.

Hell was full of clocks, he was sure of it. There was no torment, after all, that could not be exacerbated by a contemplation of time passing. The large case clock at the end of the corridor had a particularly penetrating tick-tock, audiable above and through all the noises of the house. It seemed to Lord John Grey to echo his own heartbeats, each one a step on the road towards death.

Dead is dead, Major," he said quietly. "It is not a romantic notion. And whatever my own feelings in the matter, my family would not prefer my death to my dishonor. While there is anyone alive with a claim upon my protection, my life is not my own.

Not then, at least, because Claire had met her—would meet her? Earlier? Later? She hadn't died, but was she dead? She must be now, mustn't she, and yet—damn this twistiness! How could he even think about it coherently?

the greylag mate for life? If ye kill a grown goose, hunting, ye must always wait, for the mate will come to mourn. Then ye must try to kill the second, too, for otherwise it will grieve itself to death, calling through the skies for the lost one.

I thought that was perhaps how some ghosts were made; where a will and a purpose had survived, heedless of the frail flesh that fell by the wayside, unable to sustain life long enough. I

Often people who are very ill, but are near their birthday, seem to wait until it's passed before dying. I

It's strange," he said, "when he was alive, I didna pay him much heed. But once he was dead, the things he'd told me had a good deal more influence.

No matter how ugly the manner in which a man dies, it's only the presence of a suffering human soul that is horrifying; once gone, what is left is only an object.