Quotes About Death

JÅ«tar? si chiese perché Sayama e Otoki avessero deciso di morire proprio lì. Avrebbero potuto trovare un posto migliore. Due innamorati prossimi al suicidio dovrebbero scegliere con cura il luogo in cui morire. Vicino a una fonte termale, per esempio, o in una località rinomata per la sua bellezza. Certo, anche lì la vista era bella, ma perché proprio su quelle rocce dure e non su un morbido prato?

Proverbs 13:14-15 14 A wise man's instruction is a fountain of life, turning people away from the snares of death. 15 Good sense wins favor, but the way of the treacherous never changes.

What do I want to say? I myself do not quite understand. Only that today, when for the glory of God Mokichi and Ichizo moaned, suffered and died, I cannot bear the monotonous sound of the dark sea gnawing at the shore. Behind the depressing silence of this sea, the silence of God....the feeling that while men raise their voices in anguish God remains with folded arms, silent.

Aku merasa Yudas tidak lebih dari boneka malang yang dikorbankan demi kemuliaan drama kehidupan dan kematian Kristus.

Kematian mereka bukannya tak berarti. Kematian mereka adalah sebutir batu yang pada waktunya nanti akan menjadi fondasi Gereja; dan Tuhan tidak pernah memberikan pencobaan melebihi yang sanggup kita atasi.

Seorang manusia telah mati. Tetapi dunia di luar sana terus berputar seperti tidak terjadi apa-apa. Adakah yang lebih gila daripada ini? Inikah yang namanya mati sebagai martir? Kenapa kau diam saja? Lelaki bermata satu itu mati - untukmu. Kau seharusnya tahu. Kenapa keheningan ini terus berlanjut? Keheningan tengah hari. Dengung lalat-lalat - kegilaan ini, peristiwa kejam ini. Tetapi kau memalingkan muka seperti tak peduli.

He kills her in her own humor.

O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story. . . O, I die, Horatio;

When she shall die, take her, and cut her in little stars, and she will make the face of heaven so fine, that the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun

She has vowed never to love: and that vow means I must endure a living death.

Who would fardels bear, To groan and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all;

I go and it is done. The bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or to hell.

I envied these women I saw before me, their beauty still intact. Life has its revenge of life. Untimely death is the secret of eternal youth.

Heroes are damned. No mortal conquers Death.

Dying is so simple. A fleeting moment of suffering. In the blink of an eye you are over the threshold, into another world. No more pain, no more fears. You sleep so well there. Dying is like rubbing snow together, setting fire to a whole winter of cold and ice.

I have witnessed the strength of our people driven from their own land. The tenacious march south is like a silent protest against death. In this tidal wave of men and woman a hatred mingles with hope. And this furious force of will that has infected me too will carry me to the very end of my own lonely progress.

Every man has to die. Choosing oblivion is the only way of triumphing over this.

I am terrified by the dizzying pleasure of it: I am both here and over there; I am be and I am no longer me! Am I already dead?

I reply with a letter as brief as his: 'My brother, after my first battle the only thing I now worship is the sun, a star that represents death's constancy. Beware of the moon, which reflects our world of beauty. It waxes and wanes, it is treacherous and ephemeral. We will all die some day . . . .

And, for some, closeness to death brings an epiphany which alters their lives forever.

How fragile life was, how fleeting their days on earth, and how fickle was Death, claiming the young as often as the old, the healthy as often as the ailing, cruelly stealing away a baby's first breath, a mother's fading heartbeat.

The day that he accused a reigning King of murder was the day he signed his own death warrant, and he knew it.

An intimate enemy, death, capricious and cruel, ultimately invincible.

In the past few months, life had lost its sweetness and he'd lost his way. But no longer. Death was once again the enemy, his indifference and apathy drowned in a Cheshire pond.