Quotes About Death

Necessity is the mother of not only invention but death.

May your soul be in heaven before the devil knows you're dead.

Hope follows death. It has to, or death serves no purpose.

Our heart dies with us But our soul lives on Born into weightless spirit Becoming colors of the dawn

DEATH... To stop sinning suddenly.

I rocked her in the cradle, And laid her in the tomb.

Full many a man, both young and old, Is brought to his sarcophagus, By pouring water, icy cold, Adown his warm æsophagus.

And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin Surprise thee, and her black attendant, Death.

Fear alone is real death to the brave man.

When the Sun sets, shadows, that shew'd at Noon But small, appear most long and terrible; So, when we think Fate hovers o'er our Heads, Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds, Owls, Ravens, Crickets seem the watch of death, Nature's worst Vermine scare her God-like Sons. Ecchoes the very leavings of a Voice, Grow babling Ghosts, and call us to our Graves: Each Mole-hill thought swells to a huge Olympus, While we fantastick Dreamers heave and puff, And sweat with an Imagination's weight...

The most beautiful roses grow on graves.

It may be said that every man of genius is considerably helped by being dead.

And I call to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I, who am curious about each, am not curious about God, No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God, and about death. I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least...

laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis

For the past three months, Darlene had waited for the fact of her father's death to reach every corner of her mind. She had been through this process when Mama died; she knew how it would unfold. Right now, each morning was its own little funeral. She would wake up and listen for Daddy's footsteps, sniff the air for his pipe smoke, open her eyes, and remember. Every morning she lost him...

...the question isn't whether you're happy or unhappy but alive or dead.

One thing is certain: the time will come when the opinions of priests and doctors must give way to the science of life; for their opinions lead to death and misery, and the science of life is health and happiness.

The destruction of ideals, whether those ideals were right or wrong, must also have been a shock to the mind and the heart. Life without idealism is empty indeed. We must have hope as we must have bread; to eat bread without hope is still slowly to starve to death.

And after all, what did it matter? Everybody died anyway, the good and the bad, the efficients and the weaklings, those that loved to live and those that scorned to live. They passed. Everything passed.

And, dying, he declined to die.

Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out of the depths of Time, he obeyed.

As imagination grew it is likely that the fear of death increased until the Folk that were to come projected this fear into the dark and peopled it with spirits.

I believe that when I am dead, I am dead. I believe that with my death I am just as much obliterated as the last mosquito you and I squashed. (from Who's Who in Hell)

So you're afraid, eh? he sneered. Yes, I said defiantly and honestly, I am afraid. That's the way with you fellows, he cried, half angrily, sentimentalizing about your immortal souls and afraid to die.