Quotes About Death

A criminal court is a very curious place. The seat of a ritual quite as elaborate as any religious one, it lacks in itself any impressiveness or symbolism of architecture. A robed judge in court looks like a catholic bishop would if he were to celebrate mass in some municipal bath-house. There is nothing to make one aware that here the Real Presence is: the presence of death.

So trustful are the doves, the squirrels, the birds of the branches, and the creatures of the field. Under their tuition let us rid ourselves of mental terrors, and face death itself as calmly as they do the livid lightning; so trustful and so content with their fate, resting in themselves and unappalled. If but by reason and will I could reach the godlike calm and courage of what we so thoughtlessly call the timid turtle-dove, I should lead a nearly perfect life.

That there is no knowing, in the sense of written reasons, whether the soul lives on or not, I am fully aware. I do not hope or fear. At least while I am living I have enjoyed the idea of immortality, and the idea of my own soul. If then, after death, I am resolved without exception into earth, air, and water, and the spirit goes out like a flame, still I shall have had the glory of that thought.

The dead think they can get away with anything because you'll feel sorry for them. If you play cards with the dead, make sure you deal and don't let them buy you drinks. They'll slip you a formaldehyde roofie and pry the gold fillings out of your teeth.

Death smiles at us all and all a man can do is smile back.

Death, like birth, is a secret of nature." Only with birth you get a blanket and a bottle. You get a blanket with death too, but they call it a shroud and everyone else gets the bottle.

So, you're the angel of Death?" The angel shook his head, a little embarrassed. "I don't have that honor. In Heaven, I'm the celestial who bears the great golden quills, the silver Chroma, the holy vellums upon which the Lord God inscribes the fate of the universe." Tiras's eyes narrowed. "You're in charge of office supplies. You're the angel of office supplies." The

Black is a good color anytime you're flinging around blood.

All are equal in the grave.

Maybe he was destined to die under the fading shadow of a plastic dinosaur surrounded by pickpockets, hookers, and panhandlers, but at least he'd never been to Mississippi.

When you live with a dead man's head that won't shut up and smokes all your cigarettes, the only way to deal with the awfulness is to make it so unbelievably awful that it becomes kind of weirdly beautiful. Like an exploding giraffe full of fireworks.

So far, being dead is about as much fun as a barbed-wire G-string. Yes, there is such a thing. They invented it in Hell, which is where I am. I already said I was dead. Where else would I be? Try to keep up.

Do you even know what death is, Tom?" I say. "It's dumb, and it's loud, and it smells bad; you're in Hell and you want to die to get away from it all, but you're already dead and there's nowhere to go. And what's worse is you know you're there because you deserve it, because you're such a fucking waste of skin and gristle. So no, I don't want to die. It's no fun and there's too many people like you there.

There's dead and there's Hollywood dead, and those are two very different things. Dead is just dead. In the ground. Pennies on your eyes. A cold slab of meat with no slaw and definitely no dessert.

When I'm right behind him I say, "Boo." He freezes and I put the Glock to the back of his head. "I know you want to die by hoodoo like a real warrior magician. I get it. And that's why it's going to happen like this." I shoot him and let him fall on the floor with the dead guards. Fuck him. Fuck magic. Fuck the faction. And double fuck whoever shot me in the chest.

Do they wear masks?" Kasabian says. I think about it for a minute. "Yeah. The ones I've seen." "So they must be scared too." "Maybe. Maybe it's camouflage. Or who dies and who doesn't is just part of the game. The way they decorate their masks, it's like Halloween in the psych ward.

Why don't you tell me about why you're here?" says Ray. Before I can answer, Carlos says. "Despite appearances, Stark here is dead." Ray cocks his head and looks at me. "I wouldn't have guessed," says Ray. "You wear death well.

give Death a look. "You had to wait till now to bring this up. You just took a massive shit all over our feel-good moment." "I know," says Death. "I'm somewhat famous for that.

If you play cards with the dead, make sure you deal and don't let them buy you drinks. They'll slip you a formaldehyde roofie and pry the gold fillings out of your teeth.

If you shot time in the gut, this is where it would crawl off to die.

I retired Wild Bill's Navy Colt pistol a while back and replaced it with a Smith & Wesson .460 hunting pistol. The thing is so big and mean it doesn't even need bullets. I could beat Godzilla to death with it if I stood on a chair.

Dying isn't the worst thing in the world, but dying because you're stupid is.

So far, being dead is about as much fun as a barbed-wire G-string. Yes

Don't fear God Don't worry about death What is good is easy to get and What is terrible is easy to endure