Quotes About Death

I do not view suicide as wicked, just terribly sad. There is only one death, but it is like a stone cast into a pond - the ripples stretch far. Such an act must leave a burden of sorrow, guilt, shame and confusion on an entire family. A natural death, such as my father suffered, is hard enough to deal with. A decision to end one's life must be still more devastating for those left behind. I cannot imagine the degree of hopelessness someone must feel to contemplate such an act.

The world is simple, I think, in its essence. Life, death, love, hate. Desire, fulfillment. Magic.

Death, of course, should not be feared, but awaited with certain wonder. To die was to step across a threshold into a new world, unknown, unimaginable.

Bran held his voice level. In time, you will regret these words. You may hold me captive now, and believe me helpless. But each foulword you speak of her brings your death a little closer. --Bran to Eamonn

Meanwhile, the great ash would rest where she lay, and mosses would creep over her trunk, and tiny creatures make their homes her dim hollows. Even in death she was a link in the great chain of the forest's being.

My response came without thinking. I made a gesture that said, I know. I believe you . And when he held out his hand to help me up the bank, I took it without flinching, as I had done once before in a torrential downpour, when that hand had been my only grip on reality in a flight from death. I trusted him. He was a Briton, and I trusted him.

had seen enough such deaths before to know that when the cloud of sorrow hangs too heavily over a person, nothing helps; no love, no hope, no

Being and stability are regarded by our contemporaries as akin to death; they cannot live unless they act, fret, or distract themselves with this or that. Their spirit (provided we can still talk about a spirit in their case) feeds only on sensations and on dynamism, thus becoming the vehicle for the incarnation of darker forces.

To write and not tell the truth? That would be death for any writer. But more, it would be death to the imagination. And if the imagination dies, what would happen to the souls of children?

Perhaps I am already tired of life—I feel as if it makes no difference when I die. The other day at the Toranomon Hospital when they told me it might be cancer, my wife and Miss Sasaki seemed to turn pale, but I was quite calm. It was surprising that I could be calm even at such a moment. I almost felt relieved, to think that my long, long life was finally coming to an end.

A night passed while Cixi dealt with one matter after another, conscious all the time that she just murdered her adopted son. She was forced to stop working at about eleven o'clock in the morning as death was imminent. She died less than three hours later.

But I know, I know my death will not kill me. Rather it is the death of others that will kill me.

The beauty of sand, in other words, belonged to death. it was the beauty of death that ran through the magnificence of its ruins and its great power of destruction

Suicide is an escape from life. What is life? An escape from death. This means that each of us must die twice. There is the death waiting us ahead, and the death that comes pursuing us from behind. Your trouble is that you're confused, Once you are free at least from the death that comes pursuing you, you can relax and enjoy life as you go along.

Just as trees bear their fruit before winter, just as bamboo grass produces its seeds just before it withers, sex is simply a struggle with death on the human level.

En otras palabras, la belleza de la arena pertenecía al reino de la muerte. La belleza de la muerte, que lleva en sí un gran poder de destrucción y la magnificiencia de las ruinas...

Sexul, conform naturii lui, nu era definit de un singur organism individual, ci de acela al speciei. Individul, dup? terminarea actului, nu poate decît s? se întoarc? la propriul s?u eu. Numai oamenii fericiÅ£i se întorc la mulÅ£umire. Cei care au fost triÅŸti se-ntorc la disperare. Cei care erau pe moarte, se-ntorc la patul lor de moarte.

Frumuse?ea naturii nu trebuie s? simpatizeze numaidecat cu omul. Punctul lui de vedere c? nisipul este un rebut al st?rii sta?ionare nu era nebunie... un fluid de 1/8 mm... o lume a c?rei existen?? era o serie de st?ri succesive. Cu alte cuvinte, frumuse?ea nisipului apar?inea mor?ii. Frumuse?ea mor?ii marca m?re?ia ruinelor lui ?i marea-i putere de distrugere.

How much significance could the roadway to others have when death was closer than one's companions?

He had high hopes that the key to unlock the riddle of four people's deaths was hidden on this tape. He'd pushed play fully intending to be satisfied with just a clue, any clue. There can't be any danger, he was thinking. What harm could come from just watching a videotape?

Everyone there, having watched this demonic soul die, was immersed in deep sentiment, each in their own. Only the eye of the camera sitting there on the wall kept on watching. Void of all feeling, retaining perfect objectivity, it continued recording the cells in Kashiwada's body as they passed on from this world.

Sometimes, roughly once a year, Akane's mother would appear to her like this as a hallucination that only she could see. But what felt even stranger was that her mother—who had died young—appeared to have aged appropriately in her illusory form.

Aquellos que hayan visto estas imágenes están condenados a morir a esta misma hora exactamente dentro de una semana

Many have died; you also will die. The drum of death is being beaten. The world has fallen in love with a dream. Only sayings of the wise will remain.