Quotes About Death

A double chance of destiny impends: If here remaining, round the walls of Troy I wage the war, I ne'er shall see my home, But then undying glory shall be mine: If I return, and see my native land, 490 My glory all is gone; but length of life Shall then be mine, and death be long deferr'd.

O my poor child. I bore you for sorrow, Nursed you for grief. Why? You should be Spending your time here by your ships Happily and untroubled by tears, Since life is short for you, all too brief. Now you're destined for both an early death And misery beyond compare. It was for this I gave birth to you in your father's palace Under an evil star.

We are all held in a single honor, the brave with the weaklings. 320  A man dies still if he has done nothing, as one who has done much.

But Hector, stooping, shunn'd the stroke of death. Withdrawing then their weapons, each on each They fell, like lions fierce, or tusked boars, In strength the mightiest of the forest beasts.

By god, I'd rather slave on earth for another man — some dirt-poor tenant farmer who scrapes to keep alive — than rule down here over all the breathless dead.

One and the same lot for the man who hangs back and the man who battles hard. The same honor waits for the coward and the brave. They both go down to Death

Por espacio de nueve días acarrearon abundante leña; y, cuando por décima vez apuntó la aurora, que trae la luz a los mortales, sacaron llorando el cadáver del audaz Héctor, lo pusieron en lo alto de la pira y le prendieron fuego.

clear of the ships and shelters!" So he pleaded, lost in his own great innocence ... condemned to beg for his own death and brutal doom.

De los que sienten este temor, son más los que se salvan que los que mueren; los que huyen, ni alcanzan gloria, ni entre sí se ayudan.

High-hearted son of Tydeus, why ask about my birth? Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.

to avoid death he shrank into the host of his own companions.

But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods can defend a man, not even one they love, that day when fate takes hold and lays him out at last.

Men—let one of them die, another live, however their luck may run. Let Zeus decide the fates of the men of Troy and men of Argos both, to his deathless heart's content—that is only right.

Untimely sent; they on the battle plain Unburied lay, a prey to rav'ning dogs, And carrion birds; but so had Jove decreed

Hector...boast while you may. The victory is yours, a gift from Zeus the Son of Cronos and Apollo. They conquered me...Listen to this and ponder it well. You too, I swear it, have not long to live. Already sovran Destiny and Death are very close to you, death at the hands of Achilles, the peerless son of Peleus

However, what is done is better left alone, though we resent it still, and we must curb our hearts perforce...as for my death, when Zeus and the other deathless gods appoint it, let it come.

My good friend, if, when we were once out of this fight, we could escape old age and death thenceforward and for ever, I should neither press forward myself nor bid you do so, but death in ten thousand shapes hangs ever over our heads, and no man can elude him; therefore let us go forward and either win glory for ourselves, or yield it to another.

Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle, would be able to live on forever, ageless, immortal, so neither would I myself go on fighting in the foremost 325  nor would I urge you into the fighting where men win glory. But now, seeing that the spirits of death stand close about us in their thousands, no man can turn aside nor escape them, let us go on and win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others.

would to god I'd stayed right here in my own house with a third of all that wealth and they were still alive, all who died on the wide plain of Troy those years ago, far from the stallion-land of Argos.

I am the son of a great man. A goddess was my mother. Yet death and inexorable destiny are waiting for me as well.

I took the sheep and cut their throats over the pit, and let the dark blood flow. Then there gathered the spirits of the dead, brides and unwed youths, old men worn out by labour, and tender maidens with hearts still new to sorrow.

Pero aquel que se siente tocado por mi lanza no tarda en expirar. Su esposa se desgarra las mejillas, quedan sus hijos huérfanos y enrojece él la tierra con su sangre, y se corrompe, y hay en torno suyo más aves de rapiña que hembras gemebundas

When one parent dies, the world is dramatically altered, absolutely, but you still have another one left. When that second parent dies, it's the loss of all ties, and where does that leave you? You lose your history, your sense of connection to the past. You also lose the final buffer between you and death. Even if you're an adult, it's weird to be orphaned.

Even though we knew she was going to die eventually, when it happened it was still a terrible, rude shock. I thought I was prepared, but when it happened I fell apart. That's when I realized I'd been hanging on to the hope, however slim, that as long as she was alive she might somehow get better.