Quotes About Mortality

The low rate of infant mortality is a product of data manipulation. At seventy-two abortions per one hundred births, Cuba has one of the highest abortion rates in the world, and Cuban doctors routinely force women to abort high-risk pregnancies so that Cuba's bureaucrats can brag about their health statistics. If you correct the data to account for these factors, Cuba's health statistics look a lot less impressive.5

records shows that at least two and a half million people were summarily executed or tortured to death during the Great Leap Forward. Millions more starved because they were intentionally deprived of food as punishment, or because they were regarded as too old or weak to be productive, or because the people ladling out the slop in the chow line simply did not like them.

Here, Mortimer Wheeler thought, is power. And a reminder of our mortality.

One lives longer in order that he may live longer. There is no other purpose.

Fear, anxiety, the terror of mortality—it must be a drag being right-wing. But despite that, in a multinational study, rightists were happier than leftists.42 Why? Perhaps it's having simpler answers, unburdened by motivated correction. Or, as favored by the authors, because system justification allows conservatives to rationalize and be less discomfited by inequality. And as economic inequality rises, the happiness gap between the Right and the Left increases.

Our nights are filled with worries about a different class of diseases; we are now living well enough and long enough to slowly fall apart.

What Wilkinson and others have shown is that poverty is not only a predictor of poor health but, independent of absolute income, so is poverty amid plenty—the more income inequality there is in a society, the worse the health and mortality rates.

C'est toujours stupide de mourir. - Oui, dit Gabet en tournant vers Maillat son visage naïf, on ne voit pas très bien à quoi ça sert, n'est-ce pas?

His life was focused on each single day. For him each night meant a void, a grave, extinction. The capacity to lay oneself down to die at the end of every day, without thinking anything of it, was something he had not yet acquired.

Leute, die jederzeit zu sterben meinen, leben lang!

for one knows little of oneself unless one has someone else in whom one is reflected. And since what one knows is really nothing, might it not be that at times he wished Tonka dead so that this intolerable existence might be over and done with?

Vielleicht ist es ein Fehler, daß wir uns nicht erst als Greise kennen gelernt haben« sagte sie zu sich selbst und hatte die schwermütige Vorstellung zweier Nebelbänke, die am Abend zur Erde sinken. »Sie sind nicht so schön wie der strahlende Mittag,« dachte sie »aber was kümmert es diese zwei formlosen Grauen, wie die Menschen sie empfinden! Ihre Stunde ist gekommen und sie ist so weich wie die glühendste Stunde!«

the man you watched die yesterday doesn't exist today; he fell to yesterday's bullets and you've got today's bullets to deal with. Nevertheless, sometimes it got me to brooding.

It all began, as I have said, when the Boss, sitting in the black Cadillac which sped through the night, said to me (to Me who was what Jack Burden, the student of history, had grown up to be) There is always something. And I said, Maybe not on the Judge. And he said, Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something.

Dying--shucks! If you kin handle the living, what's to be afraid of the dying?

And he said, 'Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something.

Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something...

For either killing or creating may be a crime punishable by death, and the death always comes by the criminal's own hand and every man is suicide. If a man knew how to live he would never die.

He thought of night coming on. He thought of the loneliness of tonight, this first night in the ground. This, he thought, was the moment when the dead must first feel truly alone. This was the moment when the dead, in loneliness, feel the first stirrings of the long penance of decay. This was the moment when the dead realize the truth: This is it, it will never be different. To be dead, he thought, that was to know that nothing would ever be different.

El hombre es concebido en pecado y nace en medio de la corrupción, y pasa del pestazo de los pañales al hedor del sudario. Siempre hay algo.

Death was the only question that contained its own answer, and when you asked the question and had the answer you were gone, you were nothing.

That is the truth. I know now that we need not fear death, if we have done our tasks. And when we cease to fear death, there is no death. That is the truest truth I know: There is no death.

That is no country for old men, he thought.

We live in other people. And when one of our friends dies, then that part of us that has lived in him dies, too.