Quotes About Death

Pollux's grandma had once told him dogs are so close with people that sometimes, when death shows up, the dog will step in and take the hit. Meaning, the dog would go off with death, taking their person's place. I was pretty sure that Gary had done this for Roland and then visited the store to let me know.

If I die, don't take this too hard, she counseled them, death is only part of things bigger than we can imagine. Our brains are just starting the greatness, to learn how to do things like flying. What next? You will see, and you will see that your mother is of the design. And I will always be made of things, and things will always be made of me. Nothing can get rid of me because I am already included into the pattern.

Because we shared the loneliness that was one shape. Because I knew that in her old age she shared that same boat, where I had labored. She crested and sank in dark waves. Those waves were taking her onward, through night, through day, the water beating and slashing across her unknown path. She struggled to continue. She was traveling hard, and death was her light.

How close the dead are. One song away from the living.

He later exhibited an unacknowledged dread of death, and Eliza was perhaps the first to intuit it.

Commodore Vanderbilt's death was a pivotal moment in the shift of business from family to public ownership—a transition rich in possibilities for Pierpont Morgan.

Since Hamilton had at least one sibling who had died in infancy or childhood, the poem may have summoned up memories of his own mother's hardships: For the sweet babe, my doting heart Did all a mother's fondness feel; Careful to act each tender part And guard from every threatening ill. But what alas! availed my care? The unrelenting hand of death, Regardless of a parent's prayer Has stopped my lovely infant's breath

The Release In those last moments before the platter of salt and dirt lay on his stomach, wax-light had waved across a mute heart, his son waited by the bed. Raised to believe the soul left the body with its last breath, he listened for death's rattle, then pressed his lips like a kiss to his father's lips, and took into his mouth the breath that had given him breath, a life distilled to one stir of air soft as moth wings against palms, held a moment, then let go.

The famed philosopher Diogenes was looking intently at a large collection of human bones piled one upon another. Alexander the Great stood nearby and became curious about what Diogenes was doing. When he asked the old man what he was doing, the rely was, 'I am searching for the bones of your father, but I cannot seem to distinguish them from those of the slaves.' Alexander got the point. All are equal in death.

The Bible begins with paradise lost, at which time pain, suffering, and death first entered the human race. The Bible ends with paradise regained, at which time pain, suffering, and death will be a thing of the past.

Ultimately, what I am seeking in the photograph taken of me... is Death: Death is the eidos of that Photograph

It matters greatly not only that we birth and die but how we birth and die.

If we do not birth and die ritually, we will do so technologically, inscribing technocratic values in our very bones. It matters greatly not only that we birth and die, but HOW we birth and die.

Ni siquiera la pirámide más monumental es suficiente para defendernos de la muerte.

A veces la proximidad con la muerte te llena de una extraña, casi visionaria serenidad.

Si el onanismo no nos es suficiente es porque el sexo es otra cosa. Es salir de ti mismo. Es detener el tiempo. El sexo es un acto sobrehumano: la única ocasión en la que vencemos a la muerte. Fundidos con el otro y con el Todo, somos por un instante eternos e infinitos, polvo de estrellas y pata de cangrejo, magma incandescente y grano de azúcar. El cielo, si es que existe, sólo puede ser eso.

Acaso pueden ser generadoras de algún pequeño consuelo estas malditas muertes, después de todo?

un ejército de amigos en pie de guerra que lograron que esa asquerosa muerte tuviera también una parte indeciblemente hermosa.

La pérdida, cualquier pérdida, es un aperitivo de la muerte. No nos cabe la pérdida en la cabeza, de la misma manera que no nos cabe la idea de nuestro fin. Uno nunca está preparado para perder.

ese maldito cuerpo traidor que de repente se queda cojo, y se terminaron para siempre las montañas; o que hace crecer insidiosamente, en el laborioso silencio de las células, un tumor maligno que te va a torturar antes de asesinarte;

Morir es parte de la vida, no de la muerte: hay que vivir la muerte. Iona Heath

Morir es parte de la vida, no de la muerte: hay que vivir la muerte. Doctora Iona Heath

Sólo se muere de amor en las malditas óperas.

La vida es eso, Pablo; todo lo que sabemos, todo lo que disfrutamos, todo lo que somos desaparecerá con la muerte. Y da igual que aprendamos la melodía diez años o diez minutos antes del final. Ese final llegará y lo borrará todo. Pero, mientras llega, eso es lo que somos.