Quotes About Death

The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side.

Heaven and earth are my inner and outer coffins. The sun, moon, and stars are my drapery, and the whole creation my funeral procession. What more do I want?

He is admitting that he is trapped, which realization leads to his desperate cry that we have already quoted, "Who will rescue me from this body of death?" (Romans 14:24). In whatever words it is the cry that every alcoholic has repeated. If there is to be a liberation, it will have to come from without, or better, from above: a higher power.

I am become death, the shatterer of worlds; Waiting that hour that ripens to their doom. This

Dying's an art, and at our age we ought to be learning it. It helps to have seen someone who really knew how. Helen knew how to die because she knew how to live—to live now and here and for the greater glory of God. And that necessarily entails dying to there and then and tomorrow and one's own miserable little self.

He hit and fatally injured my innocent and unfortunate uncle whose muttered last words in hospital, before his coma became a full stop, were: 'My God, the buggers've learned to fly...

I luv the ded, this old baster sez to me when I wiz tryin to get some innfurmashin out ov him. You fukin old pervirt I sez, gettin a bit fed up by this time enyway, an slit his throate; ah asks you whare the fukin Sleeping Byootie woz, no whit kind of humpin you lyke.

La nostra vita è tutta fatta di simboli. Ogni cosa che facciamo è parte di un disegno dove abbiamo comunque voce in capitolo. I forti stabiliscono i propri percorsi e influenzano quelli degli altri, i deboli ce li hanno già segnati. I deboli e gli sfortunati. E gli stupidi. La Fabbrica della Vespa è parte del disegno perché è parte della vita e – a maggior ragione – della morte.»

La nostra vita è tutta fatta di simboli. Ogni cosa che facciamo è parte di un disegno dove abbiamo comunque voce in capitolo. I forti stabiliscono i propri percorsi e influenzano quelli degli altri, i deboli ce li hanno già segnati. I deboli e gli sfortunati. E gli stupidi. La Fabbrica della Vespa è parte del disegno perché è parte della vita e – a maggior ragione – della morte.

Death was change; it led to new chances, new vacancies, new niches and opportunities; it was not all loss.

I understand horses better than I understand people, he said. I prefer their company most of the time, to be honest. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's this: A horse would sooner die in harness than rot in a field.

Our lives are about development, mutation and the possibility of change; that is almost a definition of what life is: change... If you disable change, if you effectively stop time, if you prevent the possibility of the alteration of an individual's circumstances — and that must include at least the possibility that they alter for the worse — then you don't have life after death; you just have death.

Just before the Clear Air Turbulence went back into warp and its crew sat down at the table, the ship expelled the limp corpse of Zallin. Where it had found a live man in a suit, it left a dead youth in shorts and a tattered shirt, tumbling and freezing while a thin shell of air molecules expanded around the body, like an image of departing life.

So this is how my friend died. Because I taught him how to read the gospels. And because he had the bravery to speak out about what they revealed.

The bitch is dead now.

Love of life is born of the awareness of death, of the dread of it.

You start to die the moment you are born. The whole of life is cutting through the pack with death. So take it easy.

James Bond, with two double bourbons inside him, sat in the final departure lounge of Miami Airport and thought about life and death.

Those who deserve to die, he paused, 'die the death they deserve' - Mr Big

You start to die the moment you are born. The whole of life is cutting through the pack with death. So take it easy. Light a cigarette and be grateful you are still alive as you suck the smoke deep into your lungs. Your stars have already let you come quite a long way since you left your mother's womb and whimpered at the cold air of the world.

The naked man who lay splayed out on his face beside the swimming pool might have been dead.

Follow your fate, and be satisfied with it, and be glad not to be a second-hand motor salesman, or a yellow-press journalist, pickled in gin and nicotine, or a cripple - or dead.

The bitch is dead.

You only live twice: Once when you are born And once when you look death in the face.