Quotes About Mortality

When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.

A wasting memory is not only a destroyer; it can deny one's very existence. A day unremembered is like a soul unborn, worse than if it had never been. What indeed was that summer if it is not recalled? That journey? That act of love? To whom did it happen if it has left you with nothing? Certainly not to you. So any bits of warm life preserved by the pen are trophies snatched from the dark, are branches of leaves fished out of the flood, are tiny arrests of mortality.

You know what I realized?" "What?" "Most of the people I know are dead. I guess that happens

The realisation of one's own death is the point at which one becomes adult.

Frost in January minus 20 for a week. Dead birds frozen on the branch—they fall with the first thaw like ripe fruit—death-ripened. We shall all end like them—just a stain in the snow.

Não há múmias, pedaços de tecido colados ao osso, medas de sal ou cadáveres que jamais estivessem nem metade dos mortos que estamos hoje.

First the young, like vines, climb up the dull supports of their elders who feel their fingers on them, soft and tender; then the old climb down the lovely supporting bodies of the young into their proper deaths.

Yet the presence of death always refreshes experience thus--that is its function: to help us deliberate on the novelty of time.

This is nothing of medical interest — a small chill. Diseases are not interested in those who want to die.' And then with one of those characteristic swerves of association, like a swallow turning in mid-air she added, 'Oh! Nessim, I have always been so strong. Has it prevented me from being truly loved?

We are born sad and we die sad, but meanwhile we love bodies whose sad beauty is a miracle.

The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we begin it so late.

The desire to survive and the fear of death are artistic sentiments

Death isn't sad. The sad thing is: most people don't live at all.

Grieve not that I die young. Is it not well to pass away ere life hath lost its brightness?

See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!

It's quite sad to see how many people I've known over that years that just die off, you know like wilted flowers. Well, there's something to be said for flowers in the dustbin.

If people can't stand being alone, they have no choice but to die

It's a sad world we live in when a human being leaves so little of a mark that no one even realizes it when he's gone

Are all ends of life so sad?

Take them, O Death! and bear away Whatever thou canst call thine own! Thine image, stamped upon this clay, Doth give thee that, but that alone!

What greater pain could mortals have than this: To see their children dead before their eyes?

Biologically we're all the same. We all get sad, we all get happy, and we all die. Anyone who pretends that that's not the case is either a sociopath or utterly delusional.

Why don't people just accept that life is sad and cheer up? After all, it's not going to last for ever.

I read differently now, more painstakingly, knowing I am probably revisiting the books I love for the last time. (245)