Quotes About Death

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best. Night, sleep, death and the stars.

The Dadaist movement was born from the despair over the egregious death and destruction of World War I and the zealous nationalism that led to it. The Dadaists' goal, according to an early manifesto, was to "remind the world that there are people of independent minds—beyond war and nationalism—who live for different ideals." After

There's death in life, Anna, things too impossible to bear. So many things, and yet we bear them.

I've prepared for everything as well as I can, but is anyone truly ready for death? Was Maia when she saw the ground flying up to meet her?

The wages of sin are death, but after they take the taxes out, it's more like a tired feeling, really.

The wages of sin are death, but by the time taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a tired feeling.

The wages of sin are death, but by the time taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a tired feeling.

It is my wish to die of unique causes, perhaps in a high-speed tricycle crash, a bizarre stapling incient, or as a result of inadvertently sucking my brains out through my ear while trying to untwist the vacuum hose.

And in a way, this was how he had come to see his death, as a series of small ones taking place over the course of his life and leading finally to the main event, which would be so anti-climatic, so undramatic (a sudden violent seizure in his long abused heart, a quick massive flooding of the brain) it would go unnoticed. It was the small deaths occurring over an entire lifetime that took the greater toll.

In the famine children saw their parents die and then went to live with the people on the other side. In their minds they went. When they came back they were unfinished. They are forever falling.

The bones of the Kiowa warriors did not lie in the earth but in the stories of their lives, told and retold—their bravery and daring, the death of Britt Johnson and his men, and Cicada, the little girl taken from them by the Indian Agent, Three Spotted's little blue-eyed girl. In his will the Captain asked to be buried with his runner's badge. He had kept it since 1814. He said he had a message to deliver, contents unknown

Horton could tell instantly there was no one in the house, dead or alive. Death left a place much colder than this, you could smell it, taste it, and sense it. It crept up your flesh, quickened your breath, and sent your pulse racing to cope with the first shock of meeting it. But this house was empty, just a shell.

When you die, you'll be wearing your white dress with red roses, and your hair will be long and falling around your shoulders. When they shoot you, up on your damn roof or walking alone on the street, your blood will look like another red rose on your dress, and no one will notice, not even you when you bleed out for Mother Russia.

I don't want to die," whispered Marina. "and not feel just once what you feel." She struggled for her breath. "Just once in my life, Tania!" "Tanechka..." she whispered. What does it feel like?" Tatiana continued to gently caress Marina's forehead. "It feels," she whispered, "as if you're not alone.

War was the ultimate chaos, a pounding, soul-destroying snarl, ending in blown-apart men lying unburied on the cold earth. There was nothing more cosmically chaotic than war.

He heard bombs exploding like fireworks, and as if in a dream his father's face flashed before him, wanting to know what Alexander was doing near death's door before it was his time. He said, "Dad, I'm going for her.

Shura, I'm going to die.

A good man has as much chance of dying as a bad one. Maybe more so.

Sólo los muertos han visto el fin de la guerra».

Oppression --overwhelming control -- is necrophilic; it is nourished by love of death, not life.

How slowly life moves when you're dead. Another day, another hour, another night in bed. I want to live awake. I've been sleeping. Sleepwalking.

Most of all the feared the God of Darkness, the evil spirit Nakka, who barred their way to paradise after death.

Man dreams what he is, and wakes Only when upon him breaks Death's mysterious morning beam.

Pero véate yo y muera, que no sé, rendido ya, si el verte muerte me da, el no verte qué me diera.