Quotes About Death

A pesar de su incalculable riqueza y poder marchaba hacia la muerte con el convencimiento de que moriría sin ser amado ni respetado, y que nadie lloraría por él; que su muerte ya estaba siendo precedida por una reunión de buitres, que finalmente su vida había sido más absurda y menos satisfactoria que la de un retrasado mental congénito sin extremidades ni órganos de reproducción.

The silver fish flashed in the sun like new knives, transforming their asphyxiation into a display of beauty as they flicked and leapt against each other and died.

But in this life on earth we have not only the fear but the certainty that we shall lose it. For one day we must die. Therefore true happiness... lasting, everlasting happiness cannot be our lot on earth. Nor could it be otherwise. For everlasting happiness is only another name for God.

Agora, eu ia arrastado, nesta fuga em massa, para a morte em comum, para o fogo… Isto vinha das profundezas mais recônditas e tinha acontecido.

Le monde ne sait que vous tuer comme un dormeur quand il se retourne le monde, sur vous, comme un dormeur tue ses puces. Voilà qui serait certes mourir bien sottement, que je me dis, comme tout le monde, c'est-à-dire. Faire confiance aux hommes c'est déjà se faire tuer un peu.

Viaggiare è utile, fa lavorare l'immaginazione. Tutto il resto non è che delusioni e fatiche. Il nostro viaggio è interamente immaginario. Ecco la sua forza. Va dalla vita alla morte.

To die is nothing. One is here, one is no longer here. It is only at the end one must be able to say 'I was a man'.

It is brutal. Only I never could see the sense in having folks look at your tombstone and say, 'He was a man who didn't believe in violence, He's a good man... and dead.

NO MAN KNOWS the hour of his ending, nor can he choose the place or the manner of his going. To each it is given to die proudly, to die well, and this is, indeed, the final measure of the man.

The buzzard could not reason but he knew the patterns that led to food. His entire life was built upon such fragments of knowledge and he knew that where such groups of men rode, death rode with them.

There will be blood, he said quietly, blood and death. You should not have come. Since when was a woman afraid of blood? she asked. The problem is not only Sean's. It is mine also. If there is to be blood, I will share in the letting or the losing of it.

How much can a man endure? How long could a man continue? These things I asked myself, for I am a questioning man, yet even as I asked the answers were there before me. If he be a man indeed, he must always go on, he must always endure. Death is an end to torture, to struggle, to suffering, but it is also an end to warmth, light, the beauty of a running horse, the smell of damp leaves, of gunpowder, the walk of a woman when she knows someone watches. . . these things, too, are gone.

The desert was a school, a school where each day, each hour, a final examination was offered, where failure meant death and the buzzards landed to correct the papers.

They were waiting for his death. No

Bayly, to say that he died down in the Guadaloupes. . .of

Never did a tree fall That did I not feel a pang For rightly said when they are non man will be gone.. For The very air is replenished by them trees When they are gone the air will thicken and we all will die Will become rubbles our forts and tower.. Only weeds and stones to cover The unsightly mounds we leave.. -Lonesome Gods

Those who pursued me were dead, and some future traveler could mark their trail by their whitening bones and the sound of a desert wind moaning in their empty rib cages.

A dead man they could leave, but a wounded man they must care for.

Kill him? Would that be it? No man knew better than he the tricks that Destiny plays on a man, or how often the right man dies at the wrong time and place. A man never wore a gun without inviting trouble, he never stepped into a street and began the gunman's walk without the full knowledge that he might be a shade too slow, that some small thing might disturb him just long enough!

I carved a name on a slab and placed it there. I knew not the day of his birth, but gave that of his death. His name, too, I placed there, although the place a man leaves is in the hearts of those he leaves behind, and in his work, not upon a slab Ã¢â'¬Â¦

but two shots, and then it was the knife until death.

Man was born to die. It is our promise at birth.

was sixty feet off, but the bullet caught him in the top of the head, killing him instantly.

The only messages from the dead that I'd heard had sounded as if they came from creatures that had lost their minds.