Quotes About Mortality

for every untimely death, every man cut down in his vigour and strength without time for repentance and reparation, is one corpse too many.

The disease of mortality is in us from the womb, from the day of our birth we are on the way to our death.

The disease of mortality is in us from the womb, from the day of our birth we are on the way to our death. What matters is how we conduct the journey.

Si longue que soit la vie, elle n'est qu'un long retard de la mort

Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,And in a little while our lips are dumb.Let us alone. What is it that will last?All things are taken from us, and becomePortions and parcels of the dreadful Past.

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,The vapors weep their burthen to the ground,Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,And after many a summer dies the swan.

Death closes all: but something ere the end,Some work of noble note, may yet be done,Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.

The last great Englishman is low.

Spanish influenza had rounded the globe in four months following its appearance in the United States and fully earned a promotion from epidemic to pandemic. It had infected so many that, for all its mildness, it had doubtlessly killed tens of thousands already. In its next wave it would kill millions.

July the incidence of influenza in the AEF had reached its lowest point since early spring. Only 99 men died of flu and pneumonia that month, and the number was expected to be even lower

No other influenza before or since has had such a propensity for pneumonic complications. And pneumonia kills.

For there is no God found stronger than death; and death is a sleep.

For the crown of our life as it closesIs darkness, the fruit there of dust.

For life is sweet, but after life is death.This is the end of every man's desire.

Though one were strong as seven, He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven, Nor weep for pains in hell;

We are not sure of sorrow; and joy was never sure; Today will die tomorrow; Time stoops to no man's lure.

For no man under the sky lives twice

Save his own soul's light overhead, None leads him, and none ever led, Across birth's hidden harbour-bar, Past youth where shoreward shallows are, Through age that drives on toward the red Vast void of sunset hailed from far, To the equal waters of the dead; Save his own soul he hath no star, And sinks, except his own soul guide, Helmless in middle turn of tide.

From too much love of living From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

That no life lives forever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Mind the time when you would be lying before your family members, and there would be no physician to stop it (death), and no friend to benefit you.

This world is not a permanent place, it is a passage, a road on which you are passing. There are two kinds of people here: One is the kind of those who have sold their souls for eternal damnation, the other is of those who have purchased their souls and freed them from damnation.

And they all lived happily ever after, until they died.