Quotes About Morbid

The dream is to be regarded, says Binz, as a physical process always useless, frequently morbid.

All knowledge pushed to its limit can be dangerous, and morbid, because life is endurable solely because we don't see it through to the end. An undertaking is only possible if we have conserved a minimum of illusions. Complete lucidity is the void!

The worst crimes are committed out of enthusiasm, a morbid state responsible for almost all public and private disasters.

Then she would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her laugh there was something missing. What it was, I find myself unable to describe. I think it was a certain tone, depending upon the possibility of sorrow--MORBIDEZZA, perhaps. She never smiled.

It was a good hanging, said Syme reminiscently. I think it spoils it when they tie their feet together. I like to see them kicking. And above all, at the end, the tongue sticking right out, and blue a quite bright blue. That's the detail that appeals to me.

Never tell me, by the way, that the dead look peaceful. Most of the corpses I have seen looked devilish.

Maigret avait déjà tenté de faire admettre par d'autres, y compris par des hommes d'expérience, que ceux qui dégringolent, en particulier ceux qui mettent un acharnement morbide à descendre toujours plus bas et qui se salissent à plaisir, sont presque toujours des idéalistes.

Voglio dormire fino alla morte, magari di qualcun altro

I don't know if you've ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That's why I'm trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning

I can't think again. Not ever again. I don't know if you've ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That's why I'm trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.

I don't want to start thinking again. Not like I have this last week. I can't think again. Not ever again. I don't know if you've ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That's why I'm trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.

Three morbidly obese hill people on motorized scooters are between me and my morning coffee.

If I believed in any God at all, I should still hate the idea of confession. Kneeling in one of your boxes. Exposing myself to another man. You must excuse me, Father, but to me it seems morbid—unmanly even.

Jesus, you're morbid." "It is, though, ain't it?" "Yeah," Jerry said. He grunted and stooped lower. "We're behaving like idiots. Why this mound, and why now?" "You picked it out." "And I don't know why. Maybe no reason at all.

It's not morbid to talk about death. Most people don't worry about death, they worry about a bad death.

I guess the point of that song 'Troublemaker, Doppelganger' is trying to navigate the worth of beauty and if it's hurtful or helpful to value beauty. If it's a curse or a blessing. Is that something really negative and morbid, like the hearse, or is it the limousine - a glamorous symbol of enjoying life?

I've always been fascinated by the human body, but you can become quite morbid and paranoid if you think too much.

It is difficult to put words to the smell of decomposing human. It is dense and cloying, sweet but not flower-sweet. Halfway between rotting fruit and rotting meat.

If you lower your head to within a foot or two of an infested corpse - and this I truly don't recommend - you can hear them feeding. Arpad pinpoints the sound. Rice Krispies. Ron frowns. Ron used to like Rice Krispies.

To gibbet is to dip a corpse in tar and suspend it in a flat iron cage (the gibbet) in plain view of townsfolk while it rots and gets pecked apart by crows. A stroll through the square must have been a whole different plate of tamales back then.

Gibbeting—though it hits the ear like a word for happy playground chatter or perhaps, at worst, the cleaning of small game birds—is in fact a ghastly verb. To gibbet is to dip a corpse in tar and suspend it in a flat iron cage (the gibbet) in plain view of townsfolk while it rots and gets pecked apart by crows. A stroll through the square must have been a whole different plate of tamales back then.

Body snatching and other sordid tales from the dawn of human dissection

Make sure Michelle's all right with it," she said. "Not that I'm the marriage expert. And don't you dare use me as an excuse not to do it. I've got enough to deal with without feeling like everybody's putting their lives on hold. It's morbid, understand?

I have never killed a man , but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.