Quotes About Mortality

When people asked him why he didn't work with those viruses, he replied, I don't particularly feel like dying.

Epidemiologists think that smallpox killed roughly one billion people during its last hundred years of activity on earth.

The kill rate in humans infected with Ebola Zaire is nine out of ten. Ninety percent of the people who come down with Ebola Zaire die of it. Ebola Zaire is a slate wiper in humans.

I think about dying. I've come to realize we all die alone in one way or another.

She was a tall, firm, abundantly curvaceous, lovely with pollen-gold hair and a shape to make corpses kick open caskets.

you're just as dead whether they were born in a mansion or a slum, use a Magnum or a zip gun.

A man does not know whose hands will stroke from him the last bubbles of his life. That alone should make him kinder to strangers.

Because people die. The fear: that nothing survives. The greater fear: that something does.

You will die in your sleep and leave everything unfinished. This is also speculation. I had obligations: hope, but hope negates the experience. I owe myself nothing. I cut off my head and threw it on the ground.

Every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out You will be alone always and then you will die .

Everyone in this room got here somehow and everyone in this room will have to leave.

I didn't want to see it this way, everything eating everything in the end.

You said Will you love me even more when I'm dead?

The blond boy in the red trunks is holding your head underwater because he is trying to kill you, and you deserve it, you do, and you know this, and you are ready to die in this swimming pool because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means your life is over anyway. You're in the eighth grade. You know these things.

People get used to everything but being dead.

La vie humaine est limitée, mais je voudrais vivre éternellement – Human life is limited but I would like to live forever. - Yukio Mishima

Many people... go through life with hardly an original thought; gravitate from one pleasure or amusement to another; gain a livelihood doing what someone else has assigned; flee boredom as best they can; marry and beget children; and then, without having made the slightest difference of any unique significance, die and decay like any animal.

If a man confessed anything on his death bed, it was the truth; for no man could stare death in the face and lie.

Dying for love might be pitiable, but it wasn't much different, finally, from any other kind of dying.

my first wife passed away in the spring of—" and for a moment he is touched with terror. The spring of what? Past? Future? What is any spring but a mindless rearrangement of cells in the crust of the spinning earth as it floats in endless circuit of its sun? What is the sun itself but one of a billion insensible stars forever going nowhere into nothingness? Infinity!

Wait. You think I'm going to die? That's why you slept with me?

My death will not be penciled on someone's calendar.

And after a while...I mean how do you choose? Who gets to live? Part of life is that...well, some people have to die.

And after a while...I mean, how do you choose? Who gets to live? Part of life is that...well, some people have to die. My powers aren't a prescription you can get filled as needed.