Quotes About Death

Opera cuts to the chase—as death does. An art which seeks, more obviously than any other form, to break your heart.

have at times tried to imagine the despair which leads to suicide, attempted to conjure up the slew and slop of darkness in which only death appears as a pinprick of light:

People say of death, "There's nothing to be frightened of." They say it quickly, casually. Now let's say it again, slowly, with re-emphasis. "There's NOTHING to be frightened of." Jules Renard: "The word that is most true, most exact, most filled with meaning, is the word 'nothing.

The cure for sex is marriage;the cure for love is marriage;the cure for infidelity is divorce;the cure for unhappiness is work;the cure for extreme unhappiness is drink;the cure for death is a frail belief in the afterlife.

Grief, like death, is banal and unique. So, a banal comparison. When you change your make of car, you suddenly notice how many other cars of the same sort there are on the road. They register in a way they never did before. When you are widowed, you suddenly notice all the widows and widowers coming towards you. Before, they had been more or less invisible, and they continue to remain so to the other drivers, to the unwidowed.

Perhaps a sense of death is like a sense of humour. We all think the one we've got - or haven't got - is just about right, and appropriate to the proper understanding of life. It's everyone else who's out of step.

One small revenge might be to die and show no signs of having died.

The one thing that is very good in life today is death.

When truth-speaking becomes impossible - because it led to immediate death - it had to be disguised. In Jewish folk music, despair is disguised as the dance. And so, truth's disguise was irony.

Part of love is preparing for death. You feel confirmed in your love when she dies. You got it right. This is part of it all.

the hope that this activity would keep at bay the existential pain of our brief sublunary transit from birth to death.

From love's absolutism to love's absolution? No: I don't believe in the cosy narratives of life some find necessary, just as I choke on comforting words like redemption and closure. Death is the only closure I believe in; and the wound will stay open until that final shutting of the doors. As for redemption, it's far too neat, a movie-maker's bromide; and beyond that, it feels like something grand, which human beings are too imperfect to deserve, much less bestow upon themselves.

Throw off your grief,' such doubters imply, 'and we can all go back to pretending that death doesn't exist, or at least is comfortably far away.

yet death has an obstinate way of denying us the solutions we imagine for ourselves.

God damn it, he was thinking, this dying business is difficult. They just won't let you get on with it, not on your own terms, anyway. You have to die on other people's terms, and that's a bore, love them as you might.

c'est moi» es una alusión a la respuesta que dio Cervantes cuando en su lecho de muerte le preguntaron por el origen de su famoso personaje. Cf. Travestismo.

La casa del escritor en Croisset fue derribada poco después de su muerte y reemplazada por una fábrica para la extracción de alcohol del trigo malogrado. No sería tampoco muy difícil librarse de su estatua: si un alcalde amante de las estatuas puede levantarla, otro –quizás un acérrimo defensor de la línea del partido, alguien que ha leído por encima lo que Sartre dice de Flaubert– podría retirarla celosamente.

While Nigel chattered away about the ghoulish features of dying which interested him, I grew melancholy at the half-finished things which a death persuades you to focus on.

People say of death, 'There's nothing to be frightened of'. They say it quickly, casually. Now let's say it again, slowly, with re-emphasis. 'There's NOTHING to be frightened of'. Jules Renard: 'The word that is most true, most exact, most filled with meaning, is the word nothing'.

People say of death, 'There's nothing to be frightened of.' They say it quickly, casually. Now let's say it again, slowly, with re-emphasis. 'There's NOTHING to be frightened of.' Jules Renard: "The word that is most true, most exact, most filled with meaning, is the word nothing'.

Constance: Tell me, what happened to William's little maid? I never saw her again after that dinner. Mary Maceachran: Elsie? -- She's gone. Constance: Oh, it's a pity, really. I thought it was a good idea to have someone in the house who is actually sorry he's dead.

There is a religion somewhere in the world that believes we all die twice; once in the normal way and the second time when the last person who really knew us dies, so one's living memory is gone from the earth.

Here, falling in love can be an event, a proclamation without acknowledging that everyone you love could die an awful death, that loving someone is an acceptance of impending loss.

Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. Was Father Tom thinking about vengeance now? The possibility amused him. Perhaps the next time he went to confession he would ask him. A priest should understand. That was his job, wasn't it? To understand and forgive? Maybe understanding would come with death.