Quotes About Death

Your words smell of corpses.

His smile is like the silver plate on a coffin.

I'm quite British in the sense of not expressing my emotions much. I save it for my songs. If you ask about a death in the family, or a lover, I will not be emotional. I'd probably answer with a smile. Because that's what we British blokes do.

Self-righteousness has killed more people than smoking.

In the beginning of the Great War, the emotions of Europe ran riot in a most horrible manner, first among the so-called 'living,' and then among the killed when they awoke.

The premise behind the approach was that our fear of death is a function of our egos, which burden us with a sense of separateness that can become unbearable as we approach death. "We are born into an egoless world," Cohen wrote, "but we live and die imprisoned within ourselves.

felt like mysteries were being unveiled and yet it all felt familiar and more like I was being reminded of things I had already known. I had a sense of initiation into dimensions of existence most people never know exist, including the distinct sense that death was illusory, in the sense that it is a door we walk through into another plane of existence, that we're sprung from an eternity to which we will return.

The whiter the bread, the sooner you'll be dead." This

Masculinity must be proved, and no sooner is it proved than it is again questioned and must be proved again-constant, relentless, unachievable, and ultimately the quest for proof becomes so meaningless that it takes on the characteristics, as Weber said, of a sport. He who has the most toys when he dies wins.

It wasn't the dying. He had seen men die all his life, and death was the luck of the chance, the price you eventually paid. What was worse was the stupidity. The appalling sick stupidity that was so bad you thought sometimes you would go suddenly, violently, completely insane just having to watch it. It was a deadly thing to be thinking on. Job to be done here. And all of it turns on faith.

Kilrain saluted, grinning, and withdrew. The only professional in the regiment. The drinking would kill him. Well. He would die happy.

the first dead body I had ever seen

Once you realise there's nothing to be afraid of when you die, there's nothing else to worry about.

If you ever manage to become perfect, you have to die instantly before you ruin things for everyone else.

In his reflections on rebellion, Albert Camus argues that one cannot kill unless one is prepared to die.11 But that argument does not seem to apply to soldiers in battle, where the whole point is to kill while avoiding getting killed. And yet there is a wider sense in which Camus is right. Just

Quand elle n'est pas celle du mort, la voix-off de narrateur est souvent celle du presque-mort, de celui qui a achevé le cours de sa vie et n'attend que la mort.

I want us to be doing things, prolonging life's duties as much as we can. I want death to find me planting my cabbages, neither worrying about it nor the unfinished gardening.

We trouble our life by thoughts about death, and our death by thoughts about life.

Death is not one of our social managements; it is a scene with one character.

If I can, I will prevent my death from saying anything not first said by my life.

Todos los días van hacia la muerte, el último la alcanza.

Would I fortify myself against the fear of death, it must be at the expense of Seneca: would I extract consolation for myself or my friend, I must borrow it from Cicero.  I might have found it in myself, had I been trained to make use of my own reason.  I do not like this relative and mendicant understanding; for though we could become learned by other men's learning, a man can never be wise but by his own wisdom.

What is it that makes all our quarrels end in death nowadays? Whereas our fathers knew degrees of vengeance we now begin at the end and straightway talk of nothing but killing. What causes that, if not cowardice?

Death is inevitable: does it matter when it comes? When Socrates was told that the Thirty Tyrants had condemned him to death, he retorted, 'And nature, them!'. How absurd to anguish over our passing into freedom from all anguish.