Quotes About Death

Why, Aza Chorn is dead. Just dead. About his monument, the ghosts parade. The zephyrs shriek and howl and tear apart the clouds, rail uselessly at death and in frustration snatch up blossoms shaped like human lips, and fling them like blood-red confetti from Olympus to those mortal pastures far below, a rain of angry kisses showering down upon those tiny, distant lives...

If Mr. Darwin were to be believed, then it was from the timeless dapple of the forest's canopy that men had first descended, and it was the forest's roots that drank men's bodies when they died, returned their vital salts back to the prehistoric treetops in gold elevator cages made of sap.

The wages of sin are death, but the hours are good and the perks are fantastic.

Who indeed knows the secret of the earthly pilgrimage? Who knows for what we live, and struggle, and die? Who knows what keeps us living and struggling, while all things break about us? Who knows why the warm flesh of a child is such comfort, when one's own child is lost and cannot be recovered? Wise men write many books, in words too hard to understand. But this, the purpose of our lives, the end of all our struggle, is beyond all human wisdom.

Aye, but the hand that had murdered had once pressed the mother's breast into the thirsting mouth, had stolen into the father's hand when they went out into the dark. Aye, but the murderer afraid of death had once been a child afraid of the night.

And he was silent again, for who is not silent when someone is dead, who was a small bright boy?

Tomorrow they would all go home, all except his son. And he would stay in the place where they would put him, in the great prison in Pretoria, in the barred and solitary cell; and mercy failing, would stay there till he was hanged. Aye, but the hand that had murdered had once pressed the mother's breast into the thirsting mouth, had stolen into the father's hand when they went out into the dark. Aye, but the murderer afraid of death had once been a child afraid of the night.

If you don't see me in five minutes, then I've probably died a brave and heroic death.

If the Death Bringer was seen as a threat, we'd have teams from twenty different Sanctuaries storming the Temple as we speak.

So when the time comes, when you have served your purpose, I swear to you I'm gonna kill you for free." And with that, Billy-Ray Sanguine disappeared into the ground. Then he popped his head back up. "Or at least half price." And he was gone again.

If anyone stops us, as long as we mumble something pretentious about the glory of death, we should be fine.

It is important to emphasize that the Gospel centers in the death and resurrection of Jesus. In 1 Corinthians 15:3–4 Paul sums up its message in three historical facts: "Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures. . . . He was buried . . . He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures.

Every day you amass knowledge in a frantic race against death that death must win. You want to find out everything in the time you have; yet in the end you wonder why you bothered, it'll all be lost. I keep trying to explain this to anyone who will listen.

Death is its own best friend, and our dreams know it.

The eternal cycle, the beginning, middle and end of a human being, the incomprehensible dance in the magic of our own theatre will continue forever. But ignorance of our birth and death makes us largely mad; the majority of us clap at our disasters as though they are a play: but it is a work we cannot possibly understand.

I loved them as poets love the poetry that kills them, as drowned sailors the sea.

We might never rid ourselves of a lingering anxiety regarding our death; this is a kind of tax we pay in return for self-awareness.

Everything worthwhile in your life draws its meaning from the fact you will die.

Let's not mince words: if we are ill, or a loved one dies, this is ultimately a matter of no importance to fate and the machinations of the universe.

There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.

Death is, and must be, deeply emotional. To intentionally cause death is to engender a form of intimacy, one that we're not used to thinking about. To kill without emotion and without respect, or to ignore the intimacy inherent in the act, is to rob it of its dignity, and to rob the life that you are ending of its significance. By robbing death and life of significance we reduce ourselves to the machines Descartes dreamed about. And we deny our own significance.

Everything changes in the fullness of time and everything that lies ahead of us is a mystery; even in the end of our lives we have lived, but there it will still be a closed book when it becomes life after death. -MillYentei

Everybody dies—some suddenly, some slowly, some painfully, some peacefully. No one can escape death. The point is to make the most of life—enjoy it, celebrate it, learn from it, make sense of it, share it with fellow human beings—so that when death finally comes, it will not be such a terrible thing.

The elephant goad represents Yama, the god of death and bondage. Ganesha thus acknowledges the life-giving aspect of nature as well as the life-taking aspect of nature.