Quotes About Death

Cities try to shame us into action, as they know stillness is the preserve of the destitute, the dangerous, the dead.

The weird thing about depression is that, even though you might have more suicidal thoughts, the fear of death remains the same. The only difference is that the pain of life has rapidly increased.

Between life and death there is a library,' she said. 'And within that library, the shelves go on for ever. Every book provides a chance to try another life you could have lived. To see how things would be if you had made other choices . . . Would you have done anything different, if you had the chance to undo your regrets?' A

They die, and so they have impatience.

Car accident, drug overdose, drowning, a bout of fatal food poisoning, choking on an apple, choking on a cookie, choking on a vegan hot dog, choking on a non-vegan hot dog, every illness it was possible for you to catch or contract . . . You have died in every way you can, at any time you could.

Parecía que ni siquiera morir se le daba bien a Nora. Era una sensación familiar, la de sentirse incompleta en casi todos los sentidos posibles. Un rompecabezas humano sin terminar. Una vida inconclusa y una muerte inconclusa también

I wanted to be dead. No. That's not quite right. I didn't want to be dead, I just didn't want to be alive. Death was something that scared me. And death only happens to people who have been living. There were infinitely more people who had never been alive. I wanted to be one of those people. That old classic wish. To never have been born. To have been one of the three hundred million sperm that hadn't made it.

There was death. Violent, oblivious death, in bear form, staring at her with its black eyes. And she knew then, more than she'd known anything, that she wasn't ready to die.

Sembra impossibile vivere senza ferire le persone». «Perché è così». «E allora perché vivere?». «Beh, a essere sinceri, anche morire fa soffrire le altre persone. Dunque, quale vita vorresti scegliere adesso?».

He loved you as much as you loved him, and maybe he didn't want you to see him die. You see, cats know. They understand when their time is up. He went outside because he was going to die, and he knew it.

I wanted to be dead. No. That's not quite right. I didn't want to be dead. I just didn't want to be alive.

Between life and death there is a library,' she said. 'And within that library, the shelves go on for ever.

It is a library of possibility. And death is the opposite of possibility. Understand?

you could die in that life, but you won't have died before you enter the life because this Midnight Library is not one of ghosts. It is not a library of corpses. It is a library of possibility. And death is the opposite of possibility.

And death only happens to people who have been living. There were infinitely more people who had never been alive. I wanted to be one of those people.

Between life and death there is a library,' she said. 'And within that library, the shelves go on for ever. Every book provides a chance to try another life you could have lived. To see how things would be different if you had made other choices . . . Would you have done anything different, if you had the chance to undo your regrets?

Between life and death there is a library,' she said. 'And within that library, the shelves go on for ever. Every book provides a chance to try another life you could have lived.

When you die, the last thing you want is for your death to leak out and infect those left behind, for those loved ones to become a kind of living dead. And yet, inevitably, that often happens. It has happened to me. But I sense it is getting closer. Life. I sense it, just inches ahead of me.

It's between life and death where the shelves go on and a book allows you to try on another life via choices and to undo your regrets." ~Mrs. Elm

When you die the last thing you want is for your death to leak out and infect those left behind, for those loved ones to become a kind of living dead. And yet, inevitably, that often happens. It has happened to me.

Well, it all started when I figured out that the janitor at my high school was the Angel of Death…

Where the lubber had been dismissed as a social castoff, the cracker was targeted for arrest, imprisonment, vigilante terror, and death.

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine.

Her cabind, ample Spirit, It flutterd and faild for breath. To-night it doth inherit The vasty Hall of Death.