Quotes About Death

Shape without form, shade without color,Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;Those who have crossedWith direct eyes, to death's other KingdomRemember us—if at all—not as lostViolent souls, but onlyAs the hollow menThe stuffed men.

I had not thought death had undone so many.Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled.

Webster was much possessed by deathAnd saw the skull beneath the skin.

Keeping time,Keeping the rhythm in their dancingAs in their living in the living seasonsThe time of the seasons and the constellationsThe time of milking and the time of harvestThe time of the coupling of man and womanAnd that of beasts. Feet rising and falling.Eating and drinking. Dung and death.

There will be time to murder and create.

You can evade life, but you can not evade Death.

A body is a body." Viscarro shrugged his bony shoulders. "Dead, alive, alive, dead. I fail to see the importance of the distinction." Yeah? So you'd just as soon fuck a living person as a dead one? What's the point of the distinction? Oh, right-one's normal, and one's called necrophilia." Viscarro sighed. "Touche, I suppose.

Lying in a position of classic repose, Winnifred had never been more beautiful. Her silvery gold hair cascaded over the oaken door upon which she lay. A bright waterfall, it pooled on the deep green felt of the billiard table where the door rested. Her sightless blue eyes stared up at the plastered ceiling, her face a study in serenity and peace. I had never seen violent death leave a corpse so lovely.

April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.

Confident. Cocky. Lazy. Dead.

It is the camp law: people going to their death must be deceived to the very end.

neither poems nor prose just a length of rope just the wet earth -- that's the way home. neither vodka nor bread just bursts of rage just more new graves -- that's youth and that's love. neither sleep nor waking neither joy nor laughter just tears in the night -- so the rope, paper, knife.

Between two throw-ins in a soccer game, right behind my back, three thousand people had been put to death.

Crematorium Esperanto is a language we can all learn. Dehumanization, as Borowski shows us, is a human process. The meaning of death is that we organize our actions around it. Fascism is not limited to a certain time and place; it is a certain orientation of life toward death. Extermination does not sanctify a victim or dignify a cause. It only instructs us about human possibility.

Papieros na czczo to niezdrowo, ale seta kartoflanki to po prostu ?mier?. Mo?e i lepiej.

From Gold gold bars and gold ingots bare their teeth the skulls keep silent the sockets speak

They mutilate they torment each other with silences with words as if they had another life to live they do so as if they had forgotten that their bodies are inclined to death that the insides of men easily break down ruthless with each other they are weaker than plants and animals they can be killed by a word by a smile by a look

Death, you are no different to me than my lover with cloud-coloured skin, and your hair a mass of dark cloud, your hands like blood-red lotus, and your lips the colour of blood.

Emigration is no longer a solution it's a defeat. People are risking death, drowning every day, but they're knocking on doors that are not open.

There comes a stage at which a man would rather die cleanly by a bullet than by the unknown terror of the phantom in the forest.

La vie et la mort sont identiques.

Si vous acceptez la mort ici et maintenant, votre vie sera plus profonde. Il ne faut pas être attaché à la vie. Ni à la mort.

Quand on doit mourir, on meurt, et on retourne au cosmos.

Quand notre activité se termine, quand notre vie est finie, alors, il faut mourir. Il faut comprendre la mort.