Quotes About Death

Dormir sin soñar. He oído hablar sobre el sueño de los muertos. ¿Será así la muerte? ¿Como el sueñecito más agradable, cálido y profundo del mundo, un sueño sin fin? En ese caso, no me importaría. Si morir es así, de verdad que no me preocuparía en absoluto.

I shouldn't have to care. I shouldn't have to work this hard. I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.

Há uma parte de mim que sabe que mais um dia não fará diferença nenhuma, a não ser adiar o desgosto. Mas há outra parte de mim que não concorda. É num dia que nascemos. É num dia que morremos. Podemos mudar num dia. E podemos apaixonar-nos num dia. Tudo pode acontecer num único dia.

the swallowing up of death in victory, and death is here pointedly named as the penalty for sin imposed by the Law, so that the resurrection is the final removal of the condemnation of sin.

El punto de separación entre el antiguo y el nuevo diatheke es la muerte de Cristo. El fin del viejo pacto y el principio del nuevo radica en la muerte, o tal vez sería más correcto decir en la ascensión de Cristo

Siedler: 'I remember talking to this young officer whose only concern was whether he would be shot or hanged. The noose, he

Life exists because there's death, and joy because there's sorrow.

but the sum total of the thing is this: life is life and death is death, and what is dead is dead, and gone is gone, and busy is busy. The gist being that if great beings and treasures and memories depart, never to return, what happens to ordinary everyday items? Nothing.

head lulled to one side, a trickle of blood dripped down the front of her dress, and her eyes stared at the ceiling, wide and unseeing. And totally dead.

Ohh, how clever," Aden said and clapped. "A death threat. You know what's funny? That's not even my first of the day.

Every night death came, slowly, painfully, and every morning Maddox awoke in bed, knowing he'd have to die again later. That was his greatest curse and his eternal punishment.

I've heard it said your entire life flashes before your eyes as you die. Those words comfort those who have loved and been loved but torment those who have failed and been failed.

I've been told history is written by survivors, but I know that isn't always true. My name is Tenley Lockwood and very soon, I'll be dead. This is my story—but my end is only the beginning.

If words are the power of life and death, you just pointed a loaded gun at your head.

The grave is the end And I will never accept that I have been set free from the chains that bind me. I know "Death has lost its victory" Is a lie, because there is no greater truth than this: "Life is hopeless" Gotta

I'm living my happily-ever-after already," he replied, and she smiled. "In shadow, you are my light." With their foreheads pressed together, she responded in kind. "In ice, you are my warmth." "In life and in death, your love guides me home." He kissed her. "In war, you are my prize. In darkness, you are my sun.

He popped his jaw, trying to relax against a new onslaught of aggression. It wasn't as if he were the only one to suffer, he reminded himself. The other warriors had their own demons—literally and figuratively. Torin, of course, was keeper of Disease. Lucien was keeper of Death. Reyes, of Pain. Aeron, of Wrath. Paris, of Promiscuity. Why couldn't he have been given that last one?

Emotions. A waste of energy in Zacharel's estimation. You lived, you warred and one day you died. Anything else was unnecessary.

Jump. "Not yet." A few more seconds of anticipation, of knowing most of his bones would shatter on contact. He grinned at the thought. The razor-sharp bone shards would cut his injured, swollen organs and those organs would burst like water balloons; his skin would rip from the excess fluid and this time the lifeblood that drained would be his own. Agony, such blissful agony, would consume him. For a little while, anyway.

Tucker palideció. —Vas a morir por eso. —Oh. Qué listo —dijo Aden, y aplaudió—. Una amenaza de muerte. ¿Y sabes lo más gracioso? Que ni siquiera es la primera que recibo hoy.

I am an alien huntress. I am part of the A.I.R. team, working with or against the New Chicago PD—whichever suits me at the time. Every night I stalk and kill other-worlders, and whether I'm investigating a death or causing one myself, I have to shove sentiment aside, find humor where I can, and concentrate on the facts.

Perhaps she'd done so to spite him, he thought. He'd tried to kill her, after all. And a worse attempt I've never seen. Disgraceful! His jaw locked in irritation. Now is not the time to think of her. When is a good time? Later. He could almost hear Death clapping happily in his mind, and he didn't think it was because the demon was eager to take Anya's soul. He didn't understand why the demon cared to see her, but he had no time to reason it out. The

Have you realized that dying is the only way to truly live?

She didn't see her death in those eyes, as the book had promised; she saw her seduction. She'd almost—almost—allowed him to 'mark' her, just to feel his skin against hers. Hussy. He was the one chained, and yet he had power over her. He was strong, in body and in mind, and he exuded something—pheromones, perhaps—that drew slave-like desires from her.