Quotes About Death

So this is my death. Why did I ever fear it? Speaking as an expert, you never seemed to Me to fear it all that much, He said dryly.

perhaps he was not old enough yet to have really come to believe in death after life.

The really unforgivable acts are committed by calm men in beautiful green silk rooms, who deal death wholesale, by the shipload, without lust, or anger, or desire, or any redeeming emotion to excuse them but cold fear of some pretended future. But the crimes they hope to prevent in that future are imaginary. The ones they commit in the present—they are real." His voice fell, as he spoke, so that by the end he was almost whispering.

Certain death still held attraction. Uncertain death, less so. He hurt enough already.

new "fact of life" (one that conformed to the secret nature of the sun) became the magical formula of the aeon; life comes from death.

the Aeon of Isis we identified with the earth. Life came miraculously from earth and woman. All magical pantheons were aspects of the Goddess. Death was a mystery whose depths were impossible to plumb. In the Aeon of Osiris we identified with the dying/resurrected sun. All magical pantheons were aspects of God the Father. Death could be magically overcome by obedience to formulae, rites and doctrine.

the Aeon of Horus we identify with the self-radiant, ever-living sun. All magical pantheons have become aspects of ourselves. We, like the sun, do not die. Death, like night, is an illusion. Life is now seen as a process of continual growth and humanity is developing a consciousness of the continuity of existence that will eventually dissolve the sting of death.53

I'm calling in a favor, she stated. Silence filled the line. She could almost feel the intractable Breed mulling over possibilities and wondering which favor she would call. You have a surplus, he finally sighed. Will it get me killed? She almost grinned at that. She couldn't imagine Mordecai contemplating death, let alone worrying if it would affect him. I guess anything is possible, she mused. You backing out? He grunted at that. Life's too long sometimes anyway.

Toldees, Mondath, Arizim, these are the Inner Lands, the lands whose sentinels upon their borders do not behold the sea. Beyond them to the east there lies a desert, for ever untroubled by man: all yellow it is, and spotted with shadows of stones, and Death is in it, like a leopard lying in the sun.

Understand this, a hospital is a gateway between the living and the dead. We've all had things happen to us here.

To state the obvious, each person is an individual with a unique personality, life experiences, inter relationships, and so on. Many paranormal investigators believe the individual takes these unique factors with them when they die. This means that each experience with a spirit is also unique because of what the deceased has retained after death. Likewise

Everyone wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.

Then isn't this rather all a false funeral? Can't it help you to see that there is something wrong when all the dreams in this house-good or bad-had to depend on something that might never have happened if a man had not died? We always say at home: Accident was at the first and will be at the last a poor tree from which the fruits of life may bloom.

If you were alone when you were born, alone when you were dying, really absolutely alone when you were dead, why learn to be alone in between? If you had forgotten, it would quickly come back to you. Aloneness was like riding a bike. At gunpoint. With the gun in your own hand. Aloneness was the air in your tires, the wind in your hair. You didn't have to go looking for it with open arms. With open arms, you fell off the bike: I was drinking my wine too quickly.

I had seen this exact same expression and movement before - where? In the future I would come to know that look as the beginning of the end of love - the death of a man's trying. It read as Haughty Fatigue. Like the name of a stripper.

Surely that was why faith had been invented: to raise teenagers without dying. Although of course it was also why death was invented: to escape teenagers altogether.

Perhaps everyone had their own way of preparing to die. Life got you ready.

The piece was like an elegant interrogation made of tangled yarn, a query from a well-dressed man in a casket, not yet dead. It proceeded slowly, like a careful equation, and then not: if x = y, if major = minor, if death equals part of life and life part of death, then what is the sum of the infinite notes of this one phrase? It asked, answered, reasked, its moody asking a refinement of reluctance or dislike.

The whiskey was going down sweet.  That was what happened after a while, with no meal to assist — it had to do the food work on its own.  There.  We talked about death. That's talking about death?

Oh, she said. I wasn't going to ask, but then you never said anything about it, so I thought I'd ask. How about you? Not me, said Odette. She had a poem about marriage. It began, Marriage is the death you want to die, and in front of audiences she never read it with much conviction. Usually she swung her foot back and forth through the whole thing.

She should stay here with him, unorphan him with love's unorphaning, live wise and simple in a world monstrous enough for years of whores and death, and poems of whores and death, so monstrous how could one live in it at all? One had to build shelters. One had to make pockets and live inside them.

There are times, I declared, when I believe the dead haunt us because we love them too little.

Their trade was not life, but death. They have eaten the fruit of the tree they grew for others to eat.

If I had lived my life in the consciousness of this death, everything would have been different.