Quotes About Death

then the suffering and fear of the living trying to escape that death. the deceit-filled system established to conceal that chaos. the people caught between the order of the crooked system and death. the bizarre festivals where with their own hands they gave shape to the shapeless fear they wished to escape.

Humans desired reasons; reasons for pain, reasons for sadness, reasons for life, reasons for death. Why were their lives filled with suffering? Why were their deaths absurd? They wanted reasons for the destiny that kept transcending their knowledge and that was GOD.

one of my favorites: Robby gave her a skeptical look. "Ye're an angel of death. No offense, but I would call that a wee bit of harm." "We're called Deliverers, actually. And we're not supposed to take someone before their time." "How does that work?" Gregori lifted his camera, focusing on her. "I mean do you just go down a line, saying, 'Eenie meenie mynie moe, sorry, dude you gotta go'?

Even the reeking dark in the lion's cage seemed precious and infinitely preferable to whatever lay beyond. She would go out like the flame of a candle. Where does the candle flame go when the candle is blown out? She laid her painted face against the iron bars and bared her teeth at death.

We went out to investigate and found the maid collapsed on the path, gasping that Miss Lavender was dead. I looked inside the cottage. I did not touch anything. I saw Miss Lavender on the floor, dead as a doornail. I sent my niece inside and informed Mrs. Needham that she had a vacancy. I know nothing else about the matter.

He was a freak, as you said. Someone did him a favour, killing him.

A young man in one's hotel bedroom is capable of being explained, but a corpse is always a hindrance.

And they need not cause you grief. As my Highland grandmother said—and she had the Sight—"Tis not the dead ye have to be concerned about! Beware of the Living!" And she was a wise woman. The dead are beyond your help or mine, poor things. But the living need us. Thirty souls at the least, Phryne, are still on that island to praise God who might now be angels—or devils.

Now we will all die. What a pity. I haven't done half the wicked things I wanted to do, and the ones I have done I haven't done anything like enough.

The lion-as proud as the diamond bright, Though the spell may be clouding that radiant light-in the death of the sun what's amiss will then mend, while the raven is dying discloses the end.

Der Rabe auf seinen rubinroten Schwingen Zwischen den Welten hört Tote er singen, Kaum kennt er die Kraft, kaum kennt er den Preis, Die Macht erhebt sich, es schließt sich der Kreis. Der Löwe - so stolz das diamant'ne Gesicht, Der jähe Bann trübt das strahlende Licht, Im Sterben der Sonne bringt er die Wende, Des Raben Tod offenbart das Ende.

Don't be scared," said a voice behind me. Those must certainly fall into the category of Famous Last Words, the sort that are the last thing you hear before your death. (Along with "it isn't loaded" and "he only wants to play.") Of course I was terrible scared.

Restons amis ! Cette phrase était vraiment pire que tout. - Je suis sûre qu'une fée meurt à chaque fois qu'on prononce ces mots quelque part, dis-je.

Los cobardes mueren muchas veces antes de acabar, mas solo una vez gusta su muerte el bravo. De todos los prodigios que he escuchado, el más extraño es que los hombres teman, ya que la muerte, inevitable fin, va a venir cuando tenga que venir. William Shakespeare, Julio César, acto II, escena II

En su cimbreo rojo rubí oye el cuervo cantar a los muertos, apenas conoce el precio, apenas la fuerza, el poder se alza y el Círculo se cierra. Del orgulloso león de faz de diamante, vela el súbito hechizo la luz brillante. Con el sol que agoniza él cambia la suerte, y el final revela, del cuervo, la muerte. De los Escritos secretos del conde de Saint Germain

Možno by som si mala samovraždu naplánova? tak, aby sa stretávka a môj pohreb konali v rovnakom ?ase. Pozrela som sa do kalendára. Nie, tak dlho ur?ite nevydržím ?aka?. Teraz máme koniec apríla, rada by som to mala ?o najskôr za sebou.

Jenny dies in my arms. Goes to sleep, doesn't wake up. My tears taste of blood.

That night the first frost of autumn struck Tucker's Grove. It crept up from the ground, snaring the fragile roots of plants. It emerged from the air, etching its signature on window-panes. A portent. The year was nearing its end. Things would die soon.

They smelled death and it revolted them and shot the bile high in the throat.

I realize that nothing is really normal. All it takes to alter normalcy is a death or a birth. Or just some misguided fear, love, or loneliness that never goes away.

In the face of such hopelessness as our eventual, unavoidable death, there is little sense in not at least trying to accomplish all of your wildest dreams in life.

Life is also, as George Carlin taught us, a zero-sum game. We all lose in the end. We all die screaming. If that's the case, we might as well make for ourselves a paradise in this world. Make yourself happy and comfortable as often as you can, because sooner or later, the infinite hands you a bill for all these goods and services. What

The sovereignty of God has been dying a slow death of a thousand qualifications.

if you never know sorrow then you will never know love and if you never know death then you never know life.