Quotes About Death

How can one hate oneself so much that one is willing to murder that self?" "That is your mistake. No one wants the self to die. I only wanted to make all the rest ot if stop. The only way to achieve that was to put death between the world and myself.

death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice. Death is what you get when there are no choices left to make.

Boy," Chade remarked quietly. "Never pretend we are anything but what we are. Assassins. Not merciful agents of a wise king. Political assassins dealing death for the furtherance of our monarchy. That is what we are.

Death is always less painful and easier than life! You speak true. And yet we do not, day to day, choose death. Because ultimately, death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice. Death is what you get when there are no choices left to make. Am I right?

death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice. Death is what you get when there are no choices left to make. Am I right?

But when all roads lead to death, there is no point to running down any of them.

Were there not times when death would have been easier and less painful than life?" His words were shards of ice in my belly, but I am nothing if not stubborn. "Well. And when is that ever not true?

That is a thing I will never understand," Amber observed in a low voice. "How can one hate oneself so much that one is willing to murder that self?" The ship shook his head and rain flew from his locks. "That is your mistake. No one wants the self to die. I only wanted to make all the rest of it stop. The only way to achieve that was to put death between the world and myself.

Death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice.

Death is always less painful and easier than life! You speak true. And yet we do not, day to day, choose death. Because ultimately, death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice. Death is what you get when there are no choices left to make.

Because the truth is, we all die. And once we've stepped into eternity, all that will matter is if we remained faithful to the Lord through this short life on earth.

Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.

I am a handmaiden of Death. I walk in His dark shadow and do His bidding. Serving Him is my only purpose in this life...

And so it is with us; we serve as handmaidens to Death. When we are guided by His will, killing is a sacrament.

What Frazer called "'the savage mind" (as if it did not think through us still) believed that the soul or essence of a creature resided in its blood. If so, then she must have appeared even more awesome, for she could bleed but retain her soul. And if he, the hero, could not, then perhaps he could make another soul bleed and so increase his own powers by that other's blood: the sacrament, the war. What she would spill for life, he would spill for death.

Jesus did not come to die, rendering his life and teaching secondary. He died because of his life and teachings.

The behavior of these three blurs the distinction at the edge between life and death.

I longed to return to that bloody riverbank, to throw myself in the path of the final arrow, to die ignorant, and so, in love. Better to be killed by an arrow than by the words of the one I most trusted.

In dreams you can become everything you're not. You can reverse the most fundamental truths of your life. You can taste death, the ultimate opposite.

The strong lean upon death as on a rock.

As for me, I would rather be a worm in a wild apple than a son of man. But we are what we are, and we might remember not to hate any person, for all are vicious; And not to be astonished at any evil, all are deserved; And not to fear death; it is the only way to be cleansed.

perhaps we desire death / or why is poison so sweet? / why do little Sirens make kindlier music / for a man caught in the net of the world between news-cast & work-desk?

No one but death the redeemer will humble that head.

Death. I thought it would be gardens, perhaps. Beautiful countryside with cool streams. It's only blackness. Nervous and dark. There is no rest there.