Quotes About Death

When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in such a manner that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.

If Jesus' death is different, it is not because he suffered more than other martyrs, either physically or spiritually, nor because his death was lonelier, or more humiliating, or more gruesome (despite Mel Gibson's heroic attempt to render it so). This common idea is quite mistaken. Such considerations are not what make Jesus' death unique. The uniqueness of his death is found in its meaning

Find Sister Caroline…And she's tired—She's weary—Go down, Death, and bring her to me.

is there so much suffering, so much death? I was told that God's ways are incomprehensible, and that in many cases, a Job-like humility

A German infantryman wrote in his diary, 'Courage has nothing to do with it. The fear of death surpasses all other feelings and terrible compulsion alone drives the soldier forward.'22

I can tell you something remarkable about that time, although it has only just occurred to me now. I never thought about death, like I do now. I never worried about dying. I only ever thought about being alive.

Brugge, 14 mei 1978 Ik wil mijn lichaam onderwerpen aan folteringen. Mijn lichaam pijn laten lijden. Mijn lichaam laten sterven. Mijn lichaam laten oprijzen. Om zo zo in het proces van dood en wedergeboorte mijn lichaam los te weken van de realiteit en het te schenken aan de kunst.

If the head can keep the thought in the moment of death, just for a brief time, than the head, which just felt on the ground, was a surprised head.

The face of the dead man was concealed, of course, our customs not being those of the south, where corpses are carried to the grave in open coffins, that they might – one last time before slipping into the pit – be warmed by the light of the sun.

Waarschijnlijk omdat de dood de enige ziekte is waar we niet mee besmet hoeven te worden, waarvan we de bacil al vanaf de geboorte bij ons dragen.

Als iemand haar uit de narigheid haalt sterft ze.

Het is een mooie kringloop, je moet er alleen niet een zin in willen ontdekken. Dat is misschien de enige les die er te leren valt. Gewoon als een blad naar de aarde kunnen tuimelen zonder dat je vindt dat je moet denken dat je vleugeltjes krijgt en weer omhoogvliegt het heelal in. De perzik van onsterfelijkheid is een aardig verzinsel, maar die vrucht heeft beslist geen pit. Het is maar een ezelsbruggetje naar de dood.

I mean, not when he was actually dead but from before, you know, when he wasn't dead?" "I get it.

I still can't believe she's gone," Maryse Robicheaux murmured as she stared down at the woman in the coffin. Of course, the pink suit was a dead giveaway—so to speak—that the wearer was no longer with them. For the miserable two years and thirty-two days she'd had to deal with her mother-in-law, Maryse had never once seen her wear a color other than black. Now she sorta resembled the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man dressed in Pepto-Bismol.

I stared at her in dismay. "You expect me to shop, too? Good God. Is the apocalypse happening and I missed the Rider of Death?

Justice is a very powerful emotion. It sometimes overrides even death.

She was going to die. Emma knew it with complete certainty. She was trapped in

We met a gentleman in a buggy, who, on minute examination, turned out to be Dr. Hall—and Dr. Hall in such very deep mourning that either his mother, his wife, or himself must be dead.

We met Dr. Hall in such deep mourning that either his mother, his wife, or himself must be dead.

So holy was the Bull that nothing unlucky might come near him; the youths and maidens must have both their parents alive, they must not have been under the taboo, the infection, of death.

skull stares at me with foreboding, another one a head with an open-mouthed scream. They run together so they're barely distinguishable, the black rose the only reminder of his humanity.

I know I shouldn't be writing haiku now, so close to my death. But poetry is all I've thought of for over fifty years. When I sleep, I dream about hurrying down a road under morning clouds or evening mist. When I awaken I'm captivated by the mountain stream's interesting sounds or the calls of wild birds. Buddha called such attachment wrong, and of this I am guilty. But I cannot forget the haiku that have filled my life.

Most of us live without awareness of the natural course of our lives. We were all born but don't remember the pain or shock of the transition from being safe and enclosed to the shock of being pushed out into a new element. We treat illness with resentment as though it is a total betrayal, and our bodies become an enemy. Old age is seen as something that happens to other people, and death is treated like rumour that may or may not be true.

We treat illness with resentment as though it is a total betrayal, and our bodies become an enemy. Old age is seen as something that happens to other people, and death is treated like rumour that may or may not be true.