Quotes About Death

Please don't set me free Death means a lot me

Again Jesus cried out in a loud voice. Then he died. Then the curtain in the Temple split into two pieces. —MATTHEW 27:50–51

Through His death, burial, and resurrection, Jesus rang the bell of our freedom.

No further use now for this language, this learning, this whole education through which I was taught to exert myself at the heart of the world. Mirage or mirror, a great enchantment glows in this darkness and leans against the door-jam of ravages in the classic pose assumed by death immediately after shedding her shroud. O my image of bone, here I am: let everything finally decompose in the palace of illusions and silence.

I answered that quite to the contrary, I considered Death—and in particular, the death of a beautiful woman—to be Poetry's grandest, most exalted theme.

A lady is in the newspaper but three times in her life. When she is born—" "When she marries and when she dies

Sin separates man from God, and that means death, for it is only in communion with the living God that man can truly live.

This may be regarded as the culmination and completion of spiritual death. The restraints of the present fall away, and the corruption of sin has its perfect work. The full weight of the wrath of God descends on the condemned. Their separation from God, the source of life and joy, is complete, and this means death in the most awful sense of the word.

Most people die at the last minute; others twenty years beforehand, some even earlier. They are the wretched of the earth.

Most people die at the last minute others 20 years beforehand, some even earlier. They are the wretched of the earth.

Zij bewoog niet, stond stil en staarde en vroeg zich af, of dit sterven was.

In deference to such spectacular carnage it is perhaps perverse to dwell upon one person's death, but we are creatures so constituted that the passing of one friend or one acquaintance has a profounder effect that that of 100,000 strangers. If there is any metaphorical truth in the Jewish proverb that he who saves one life saves the whole world, then there is equal metaphorical truth in the proposition that when one person dies, the whole world dies with them.

Rows of books around me stand, Fence me in on either hand; Through that forest of dead words I would hunt the living birds -- So I write these lines for you Who have felt the death-wish too, All the wires are cut, my friends Live beyond the severed ends.

Thus were we weaned to knowledge of the Will That wills the natural world, but wills us dead.

Why not admit that other people are always Organic to the self, that a monologue Is the death of language and that a single lion Is less himself, or alive, than a dog and another dog? With vision but it is vision builds the eye; And in a sense the children kill their parents But do the parents die? And the beloved destroys like fire or water But water sculpts and fire refines And if you are going to read the testaments of cynics You must read between the lines.

We poets have no need for drugs to attain the borderline between life and death.

I'm thinking about the cat dying, Dulcie and her knife against my throat, Mrs Irvin and her St Thomas bone... But never my sister. A brother rarely thinks about his sister.

sterven is het openen van een andere deur, een onbekende en nog nimmer betreden kamer van een vreemd huis

When my death us do part Then shall forgiven and forgiving meet again, Or will it be, as always was, too late?

Slipping in blood, by his own hand, through pride, Hamlet, Othello, Coriolanus fall. Upon his bed, however, Shakespeare die, Having endured them all.

You are born alone. You die alone. The value of the space in between is trust and love.

When dad told me Mr Steptoe had passed away, I broke down.

Another of them died last night. His body was in the bazaar this morning. It lay, with a collecting bowl at its feet, on the charpoy that is reserved for those who die without money or family to bury them. He looked desiccated and his skin had the sheen and color of the dates we eat to break our fast. There are new bodies on that charpoy every week.

The dead don't bother haunting graveyards- they are the last place on earth they need to haunt. The living do that job for them with their messy combination of grief, desire, imagination. There is nothing in this cemetery. It's just an empty field.