Quotes About Death

Each death is as unique as each life.

The truth about life was that nothing ever ended until you died, and even then you just left a whole bunch of unresolved narratives behind you.

A la mayoría de la gente le cabe en la cabeza el suicidio, supongo; la mayoría de la gente, aunque lo tenga muy oculto en lo más profundo de sí misma, puede recordar alguna vez en la vida en la que pensó si realmente quería despertar a la mañana siguiente. Querer morir parece una parte de estar vivo.

Our terminal decline into old age and death stems from the fine print of the contract that we signed with our mitochondria two billion years ago.

what happens if we take a cyanide pill: it jams up the final proton pump of the respiratory chain in our mitochondria. If the respiratory pumps are impeded in this way, protons can continue to flow in through the ATP synthase for a few seconds before the proton concentration equilibrates across the membrane, and net flow ceases. It is almost as hard to define death as life, but the irrevocable collapse of membrane potential comes pretty close. So

Then, in the early spring of AD 33, he did something that changed things entirely, something really annoying: he raised a man from the dead.

There are so many ways to be alive, but only one way to be dead.

THE DEATH OF LEOPOLD GURSKY Leopold Gursky started dying on August 18, 1920. He died learning to walk. He died standing at the blackboard. And once, also, carrying a heavy tray. He died practicing a new way to sign his name. Opening a window. Washing his genitals in the bath. He died alone, because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone. Or he died thinking about Alma. Or when he chose not to.

He died alone because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone.

In life we sit at the table and refuse to eat, and in death we are eternally hungry.

These things are lost to oblivion like so much about so many who are born and die without anyone taking the time to write it all down. That Litvinoff had a wife who was so devoted is, to be frank, the only reason anyone knows anything about him at all.

I hadn't thought about it until just now, but the night Daniel rang our bell in the winter of 1970 was the end of November, the same time of year she died twenty-seven years later. I don't know what's that supposed to tell you; nothing, except that we take comfort in the symmetries we find in life because they suggest a design where there is none.

And he isn't crying for her, not for his grandma, he's crying for himself: that he: too, is going to die one day. And before that his friends wil die, and the friends of his friends, and, as time passes, the children of his friends, and, if his fate is truly bitter, his own children. (58)

The absurdity of believing that the decisions about who we love, and who we bind ourselves to, could be arrived at rationally? Or of assuming that we would be afforded a fair or natural death? Or did she mean the absurdity of having once believed in the possibility of dedicating one's life to anything beyond tomorrow, beyond just surviving? Or just the simple, long-standing absurdity of having lived a beginning that bore so little relation to the end?

Maybe this is how I'll go, in a fit of laughter, what could be better, laughing and crying, laughing and singing, laughing so as to forget that I am alone, that it is the end of my life, that death is waiting outside the door for me.

Exista nenumarate feluri de a fi viu, dar un singur fel de a fi mort.

My son's mother, the girl I fell in love with when I was ten, died five years ago. I expect to join her soon, at least in that. Tomorrow. Or the next day. Of that I am convinced. I thought it would be strange to live in the world without her in it. And yet. I'd gotten used to living with her memory a long time ago. Only at the very end did I see her again. I snuck into her room in the hospital and sat with her every day.

Maybe this is how I'll go, in a fit of laughter, what could be better, laughing and crying, laughing and singing, laughing so as to forget that I am alone, that it is the end of my life, that death is waiting outside the door for me.

Franz Kafka is Dead He died in a tree from which he wouldn't come down. Come down! they cried to him. Come down! Come down! Silence filled the night, and the night filled the silence, while they waited for Kafka to speak. I can't, he finally said, with a note of wistfulness. Why? they cried. Stars spilled across the black sky. Because then you'll stop asking for me.

Epicurus summed up his whole philosophy in his epitaph: 'I was not; I have been; I am not; I do not mind' If

Another way Epicurus thought he could cure his followers of their fear of death was by pointing out the difference between what we feel about the future and what we feel about the past.

Whether or not you can imagine your own death, it seems quite natural to be at least a bit afraid of not existing.

Three days later when his body was found they wanted to bury him in Mississippi. I wanted him home in Chicago. I wanted the world to see what they did to my boy. I wanted Emmett's death to be the last death. I wanted Emmett's death to kill American innocence. I wanted Emmett's death to be not only the death of my boy but the death of innocence. I wanted Mississippi, I wanted America, to give us justice. And I prayed that I would live long enough to see it.

UNUSED LYRIC I've never been to Eden But it's nice I hear tell When I die I'll go to heaven 'Cause I've done my time in hell