Quotes About Mortality

Just like all of us. The Nest Houses have reached their life expectancy. I think of the mud nest we made for the cardinal, all those years ago, and wonder if it's still there. I imagine his little bones in his little grave, and it is the saddest thought in the world.

You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either. I know myself well enough to know that no one else can keep you awake or keep you from sleeping. That's all on me too. But man, I like this girl.

and so the preacher talks about the tragedy of someone dying so young, of a life ended too soon, of possibilities never realized.

I know life well enough to know you can't count on things staying around or standing still, no matter how much you want them to. You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either. I know myself well enough to know that no one else can keep you awake or keep you from sleeping. That's all on me too. But man, I like this girl.

But if a human was to avoid all life-threatening diseases and infections and accidents, he—or she—should live to be a hundred and fifteen.

I shout, "I would like to welcome you to my death!" You might expect me to say "life," having just woken up and all, but it's only when I'm awake that I think about dying.

I know life well enough to know you can't count on things staying around or standing still, no matter how much you want them to. You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either. I know myself well enough to know that no one else can keep you awake or keep you from sleeping. That's all on me too.

I know life well enough to know you can't count on things staying around or standing still, no matter how much you want them to. You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either. I know myself well enough to know that no one else can keep you awake or keep you from sleeping.

What then of all the plot in between I have honestly forgotten? I feel a nausea of panic that I will die soon.

In order to be a better writer and better reader, I need to believe in my own death and in the death of others.

The end of a day on which a life has ended is still far from being the end of days.

With you inside me comes the knowledge of my death.

She remembers the first night she knew she loved him, the way the fear came rushing in. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heart. One day this too will stop, she thought. The no, no, no of it.

Three questions from my daughter: Why is there salt in the sea? Will you die before me? Do you know how many dogs George Washington had? Don't know. Yes. Please. 36.

Then one day I have to run to catch a bus. I am so out of breath when I get there that I know in a flash all my preparations for the apocalypse are doomed. I will die early and ignobly.

Breathing in, I know that I am of the nature to grow old. Breathing out, I know that I cannot escape old age. Breathing in, I know that I am of the nature to get sick. Breathing out, I know that I cannot escape sickness. Breathing in, I know that I am of the nature to die. Breathing out, I know that I cannot escape dying. Breathing in, I know that one day I will have to let go of everything and everyone I love. Breathing out, I know there is no way to bring them along.

Everything that has eyes will cease to see

Fiatalon az ember azt hiszi, örökké él.

Today, influenza kills fewer than 0.1 percent of those who catch it. Nearly everyone recovers. In the 1918 pandemic most still recovered, but the death rate was twenty-five times greater. So many died in the U.S. that the average life expectancy in 1918 fell from fifty-one to thirty-nine years.

Live every day as if it were your last, because one of these days, it will be.

Okay." The boy placed his hands on the table. "The thing is … I died before I got to see real live tits. Not just on the Internet." He hurried to add, "I wouldn't touch you or nothing. Obviously. But even if I could, I wouldn't do that to you." He looked at his hands as he dropped them into his lap. "I just want to see.

You want me to flash you" I said He nodded vigorously, like I'd asked if he wanted fries with that. "And then you'll pass on?" "That's all I want. So, yeah." I could almost believe that a fourteen-year-old boy could find deep spiritual peace from a pair of boobs.

Dead people don't bleed for long.

Angels may be very excellent sort of folk in their own way, but we, poor mortals in our present state, would probably find them precious slow company.