Quotes About Death

It's terrible when anyone passes too soon.

The fertility cycle is a cycle entirely of living creatures passing again and again through birth, growth, maturity, death, and decay.

I g-g-guess...I'm dead?" she heard her own voice call out, strangely high-pitched and thin. For a long time, she heard nothing else. And then: "Hi, Dead. I'm Dan.

And so, this was the final major theme we found: that when a group of people, no matter how small or ordinary, was willing to die out to their selfish desires, the life which came out of that death was immeasurable, and continued to affect lives far into the future.

How could I known then that failure then that failure of ambition is like a long lingering death and that disappoint with your life never goes away? It only grows stronger with the passage of time as the clock ticks off the remaining days of your life, and any residual, hope slips like sand through arthritic fingers.

I thought I knew what love was….I had this vision of it. Flowers and walks holding hands, and making love, and smiling, and being happy. But now I know what it really is. Love is a poison—and the only antidote is him. Without him I will die.

What is life except excuse for death, or death except escape from life?' Recall my name with kindness now and then.

The Victress was another design by the pioneering American Arthur Piver, whose reputation hadn't been hurt too badly by his own disappearance and presumed death at sea aboard one of his own boats in 1968. His boat might have capsized, but it might also have been run down or suffered any of the mishaps sailors always risk when going to sea.

When you're lost in the Wild and you're scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye, And you're sore as a boil it's according to Hoyle To cock your revolver…and die. But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can," And self-dissolution is barred. In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow… It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

We rehearse for the big death through the little death of orgasm, through erotic living. Death as transfiguration

And now he was dead. She didn't know how, or what had killed him, just that his body had ceased to exist.

Do you think Gill's death was calmly planned and executed, or was it a crime of passion?' Banks asked. 'A bit of both. Things aren't so clear-cut in this kind of crime. Terrorists are very emotional about their beliefs, but they're cold and deadly when it comes to action.

Animals, like humans, make in life the mistakes that will ultimately lead to their death, either physically or on a spiritual and emotional level. People and animals that stay on the same paths in life will eventually wear themselves into ruts. Soon the ruts become so deep that the people can no longer see over the sides. They see neither danger, or beauty, only the path before them because they fear losing their security and are afraid to enter the land of the unknown.

Yet perhaps it is precisely this that we are being called to: engaging in that most difficult task of putting our religion to death so that a religion without religion can spring forth.

We don't become mature human beings by getting lucky or cleverly circumventing loss, and certainly not by avoidance and distraction. Learn to lament. Learn this lamentation. We're mortals, after all. We and everyone around are scheduled for death (mortis). Get used to it. Take up your cross. It prepares us and those around us for resurrection. — Eugene Peterson

el camino a la vida es a través de la muerte y resurrección por la crucifixión.

Solange man leidet, lebt man doch wenigstens. Ich fürchte mich nicht vor dem Sterben. Ich habe Angst vor dem Tod - einfach, weil dann alles zu Ende ist.

Because dead people are just like you and me, they still want things. They look at us all the time, and they miss being alive. We have taste and color and smell and feelings, and they don't have any of those things. They stare at us, they don't miss anything. They really see what's going on, and we hardly ever really see that. We're too busy thinking about things and getting everything wrong, so we miss ninety percent of what's happening.

Do you expect to talk to us, Master Musgrave?' 'No, Lord Robert, I expect to die,' said Tom.

To have the truth in your possession you can be found guilty, sentenced to death.

I have need of a knife to cut our brother down,' she explained. 'We must pray for his soul and accord him a Christian burial.' The others cast uneasy glances at each other.

Primitive humans developed a neurosis, an irrational or imaginary fear, one not caused by an actual threat: necrophobia—a fear of the dead.

Unlike our scattered dead that Ernie Pyle saw on distant foreign hillsides, we are collectively seeing ours here at home. We are looking into the abyss of a new American Noir like the one in 1940s but worse. This time there will be no solemn homecoming flotillas of the dead in flag-draped coffins from overseas; they are already here with us in mass graves like New York's Hart Island and in refrigerator trucks in hospital and funeral home parking lots.

In Plato and in many Greek tragedies we learn that the Athenians did not seem to believe in rewards and punishments after death. 'In fact, they do not seem to have expected very much at all. "After death every man is earth and shadow: nothing goes to nothing".' (This is a character in one of Euripides' plays.) In Plato's Phaedo, Simmias betrays his worry that at his death his soul will be scattered 'and this is their end'.52