Quotes About Death

Kate is going to die. It took me a long time to be able to say that. We all are going to die, when you get down to it, but it's not supposed to be like this. Kate ought to be the one saying goodbye to me.

If you knew you were going to die, wasn't it better to choose the time and place, instead of waiting for fate to drop on you like an anvil?

How could she trust this man, so imprecise with his words, to take care of the burial? To say there had been a loss was ludicrous; one lost a shoe or a pair of keys. You did not suffer the death of a child and say there was a loss. There was a catastrophe. A devastation. A hell.

When you die, you don't get to catch snowflakes on your tongue. You don't get to breathe winter in, deep in your lungs. You can't lie in bed and watch for the lights of the passing town plow. You can't suck on an icicle until your forehead hurts.

I want to finish what I started." Life asked death, "Why do people love me but hate you?" Death responded, "Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth." —Unknown

I know it feels crass to talk about death in such mercenary terms, but that's the very problem with death in the first place. We don't know how to talk about it. We use euphemisms and discuss pearly gates and angels while glossing over the fact that we have to die to get there. We treat it like a mystery, when in fact, it's the one experience all of us are guaranteed to share.

Death is scary and confusing and painful, and facing it alone shouldn't be the norm.

I don't know what it is about death that makes it so hard. I suppose it's the one-sided communication; the fact that we never get to ask our loved one if she suffered, if she is happy wherever she is now... if she is somewhere. It's the question mark that comes with death that we can't face, not the period.

don't know what it is about death that makes it so hard. I suppose it's the one-sided communication; the fact that we never get to ask our loved one if she suffered, if she is happy wherever she is now… if she is somewhere.

A flight attendant is the guide who helps you navigate that passage smoothly. As a death doula, I do the same thing, but the journey is from life to death, and at the end, you don't disembark with two hundred other travelers. You go alone.

Dying is a misnomer. You're alive, until you're not.

When the life left a person, it wasn't by degrees. It was instant, like someone pulling down a shade on a window. The

No matter what we survivors like to tell ourselves about the afterlife, when someone dies, everything is over.

If you chose to stop a loved one's suffering—either before it began or during the process—was that murder, or mercy?

But then I started to understand: when your existence is hell, death must be heaven.

She'd thought that death could be an answer, because she was too immature to realize it was the biggest question of all. Yesterday

Death is the guest you didn't invite: arriving when you least expect it, when you least need it, and when you least want it. It's a blow from behind. A knife in the back. The shadow that's following you. It's why you always keep looking over your shoulder.

what they felt. They prayed for their lives but had no control over them; I pray for my death but have no control over it. This is why I want you to help me.

Death wasn't something you could control. In fact, it would always have the upper hand.

I die. Before I die my body turns hair-side-in. People come from everywhere to see the insides of themselves. But the sight makes them lose the will, and all die. O the embarrassment.

I die. O my hair falls out and my flesh rots and my bones are cracked by the hungry ta!a'an. He drops me behind him all around the forest and nothing will grow where his excrement from my marrow falls. As the years pass the forest dies from the poison of my remains. The soil washes into the sean and poisons the fish and all die. O the embarrassment.

I die. I breathe in and breahe in and cannot exhale. I explode all over my friends. They forget my name and pretend it is dung. They wash off in the square and the well becomes polluted. All die. O the embarrassment.

This is embarrassing. I uh, die and, um the last breath from my lungs is a terrible acid. It melts the seaward wall of the city and a hurricane comes and washes it away. All die. O the embarrassment -You're much better at that than he was.

I die. I,uh, have a terrible fever in my head and it gets hotter and hotter and hotter until my head is a fire, a forge, a star. I set the world on fire and everybody dies. O the embarrassment.