Quotes About Mortality

Just as a well-filled day brings blessed sleep, so a well-employed life brings a blessed death

As a day well spent makes sleep seem pleasant, so a life well employed makes death pleasant. A life well spent is long.

It would not go away because it was my thought. It is not death that is terrible, but the knowledge of it: it would be utterly impossible to live if a man could know exactly and definitely the day and hour of his death.

The fear of death came over him gradually. It was as if somebody were striking his heart a powerful blow with the fist from below.

To-morrow, with the rise of the sun, this human face would be distorted with an inhuman grimace, her brain would be covered with thick blood, and her eyes would bulge from their sockets and look glassy,—but now she slept quietly and smiled in her great immortality.

Oh sure, I have regrets, but that's the nice thing about age. Regrets fade. And eventually, you die.

Be sure the safest rule is that we should not dare to live in any scene in which we dare not die.

The poet replied: "I always am, my child; you will be too in a few years. While one is climbing the ladder, one sees the top and feels hopeful; but when one has reached that summit, one sees the descent and the end which is death. It is slow work ascending, but one descends rapidly. At your age one is joyous; one hopes for many things which never come to pass. At mine, one expects nothing but death.

If we ever do achieve freedom from most of today's diseases, or even complete freedom from disease, we will perhaps terminate by drying out and blowing away on a light breeze, but we will still die.

Death is not a sudden-all-at-once affair; cells go down in sequence, one by one. You can, if you like, recover great numbers of them many hours after the lights have gone out, and grow them out in cultures. It takes hours, even days, before the irreversible word finally gets around to all the provinces.

The living is a passing traveller The dead, a man come home.

Das Firmament blaut ewig und die Erde Wird lange fest stehen und aufblühn im Lenz. Du aber, Mensch, wie lange lebst denn du?

I don't think you should die until you're ready. Until you've wrung out every last bit of living you can.

Everyone's dying. A little, every day. Make it count.

All the small, simple, conscious acts of living a sudden defense against the dying we do every day.

People you loved could be gone in a breath. So why didn't knowing that make it any easier to be vulnerable? To tell people that you loved them, that you were hurting, that you were afraid, or that, sometimes, at five in the morning, you were so alone in your own skin that you watched the weak light play across the ceiling, willing it toward dawn?

Dead bodies are such trouble," Evie said with a little sigh, and Mabel had to turn her head away so as not to laugh.

Why must we die when everything within us was born to live?

The dead became the living until the living became the dead.

People you loved could be gone in a breath. So why didn't knowing that make it any easier to be vulnerable? To tell people that you loved them, that you were hurting, that you were afraid, or that, sometimes, at five in the morning, you were so alone in your skin that you watched the weak light play across the ceiling, willing it toward dawn?

It's just too bad they have to die. They're totally bangable, you know?" "Bangable," Taylor mouthed in disgust. She wanted to show this boy another meaning for the word bang, and it involved his head against a steel door.

Twinkle Twinkle little star. You are nothing. You've been dead for a thousand years.

Teach us to number our days and recognize how few they are; help us to spend them as we should. (Ps. 90:12 TLB).

Can we love what will swallow us when we are gone? I do.