Quotes About Death

While now and then you hear somebody talking about how ". . . beautiful and elegant the predator-prey relationship is, how natural and proper the death of the prey is," it is usually so much misunderstood balderdash by people who have not witnessed it very many times, or worse, by people who have witnessed only highly edited versions on film.

He was not the same and would never be again like he had been. That was one of the true things, the new things. And the other one was that he would not die, he would not let death in again.

The thing with dying was to try to not die and make death take you with surprise.

I ran from the barn out through the herd to make certain and saw that the coyote was really dead, as was the sheep, but I ran smack into what makes border collies the incredible beings that they are. Louise grabbed at the coyote's neck, growling, and having made certain that it was dead, tried to bring the sheep back to life. She pulled at the ewe, trying to lift her to her feet, nudged at her ribs in a kind of crude CPR

When gods die, they die hard. It's not like they fade away, or grow old, or fall asleep. They die in fire and pain, and when they come out of you, they leave your guts burned. It hurts more than anything you can talk about. And maybe worst of all is, you're not sure if there will ever be another god to fill their place. Or if you'd ever want another god to fill their place. You don't want the fire to go out inside you twice.

the true subject of science fiction is death, not life. It will all end. The totality of it.

Dead is dead, we know where to file another person's extinction, but the artist purposely zoomed in on the living, or, to be more accurate, the forced-to-be-living and the soon-to-be-dead. Grainy

Easter would be coming soon, but her mother was still dead.

Too far is when you're shot in the back of the head somewhere Upstate and the National Guard burns your body to a crisp and flushes the ashes down a cold winter's port-a-potty at some Secure Screening Facility in Troy. Lenny

What I like most about Buddhism really is its fearlessness. So much of what warps people is fear of death and fear of impermanence. So much of what we do is simply strategies to try and hold back death, trying to buy time with material things. So at its best Buddhism provides people with a way of seeing their own frailty: you need less in the way of material objects and fortresses around yourself.

Around Jack (Kerouac) there circulated a palpable aura of fame and death.

L'être voué à l'eau est un être en vertige. Il meurt à chaque minute, sans cesse quelque chose de sa substance s'écoule. La mort quotidienne n'est pas la mort exubérante du feu qui perce le ciel de ses flèches; la mort quotidienne est la mort de l'eau. L'eau coule toujours, l'eau tombe toujours, elle finit toujours en sa mort horizontale. [...] La peine de l'eau est infinie.

I am dying of love. That is how it is...I loved her so! And I love her still....and am dying of love for her. - I kissed her alive...and she looked as beautiful as if she had been dead. ~ Erik

I moved closer to him, attracted, fascinated: in the midst of such passion, death itself became appealing...

Erik, Erik! I saved your life! Remember? You were scentenced to death! But for me you would be dead by now.

Oh, tonight I gave you my soul and I am dead! Christine replied. Your soul is a beautiful thing, child, replied the grave man's voice, and I thank you. No emperor ever received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight.

You must know . . . that I'm made entirely of death, from head to foot, and that it's a corpse loves you, adores you, and will never leave you, never! I'm going to have the coffin enlarged, Christine, for later, when we've come to the end of our love.

Until then, in the depth of those eyes, all I had seen was the promise of death; it was the first time I saw the promise of life

When I opened my eyes, we were still surrounded by darkness. A lantern, standing on the ground, showed a bubbling well. The water splashing from the well disappeared, almost at once, under the floor on which I was lying, with my head on the knee of the man in the black cloak and the black mask. He was bathing my temples and his hands smelt of death. I tried to push them away and asked, 'Who are you? Where is the voice?' His only answer was a sigh.

I am dying of love. That is how it is...I loved her so! And I love her still....and am dying of love for her. - I kissed her alive...and she looked as beautiful as if she had been dead.

The truth is that no one ever knew how Joseph Buquet met his death. The verdict at the inquest was natural suicide. In

Come, children, pull yourselves together! I dare say no one has ever seen the ghost." "Yes, yes, we saw him—we saw him just now!" cried the girls. "He had his death's head and his dress-coat, just as when he appeared to Joseph Buquet!" "And Gabriel saw him too!" said Jammes. "Only yesterday! Yesterday afternoon—in broad day-light——

Es muy difícil hacerse amar en una tumba —le dije. »Ã¢â'¬â€Uno tiene las "citas" que puede —respondió en un tono muy especial.

Eric is dead.