Quotes About Mortality

Grief doesn't kill, love doesn't kill; but time kills everything, kills desire, kills sorrow, kills in the end the mind that feels them; wrinkles and softens the body while it still lives, rots it like a medlar, kills it too at last.

If after every tempest come such calms, may the winds blow till they have awakened death.

Különben is, az ember legjobb nyugalma az alvás, s ezt gyakran kijátszod; de erÅ'sen félsz a haláltól, mely semmi több. Nem több, mint alvás. Aludni. Álmodni tán.

Naša nas taština tjera da preuveli?avamo ljudski život.

It's going to happen, and one's a fool if one doesn't prepare for it. (About death)

We shall all be 'was' one of these days. Meanwhile....

The wound is mortal and is mine.

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.

I can imagine myself on my death-bed, spent utterly with lust to touch the next world, like a boy asking for his first kiss from a woman.

To resist and subdue Nature is to make for one's self a personal and imperishable life: it is to break free from the vicissitudes of Life and Death.

Love death therefore, and long eagerly for it. Die Daily.

La vejez, esa primera muerte de las cortesanas.

As horas que crescem no lado direito dos relógios devem ser esticadas com ajuda da preguiça, pois são elas as que mais seguramente levam para a morte.

Morir es tan solo una forma particularmente exacta de envejecer.

Mourir et donner des noms, on ne fait sans doute rien de plus sincère, pendant tout le temps où on vit.

You wake, you die.

Well, we're all mortal...and the old must make way for the young, otherwise there would be no promotion.

Everything, it seemed to Mma Ramotswe, had a waiting list—except the government taxman and the call, when it came, to leave this world. You could not argue with the agents of either of these: you paid, and you went. But I am just on the waiting list…No, there is no waiting list for these things…

Believe me, there's nothing more brittle than human beauty. Encounter it. Savour it, by all means. Then watch how it turns to dust.

Hospitals were to her a memento mori in bricks and mortar; an awful reminder of the inevitable end that was coming to all of us but which she felt was best ignored while one got on with the business of life.

The realisation of our mortality came slowly, in dribs and drabs, until we bleakly acknowledged that everything was on loan to us for a short time—the world, our possessions, the people we knew and loved. But we could not spend our time dwelling on our mortality; we still had to behave as if the worst would not happen, for otherwise we would not do very much, we would be defeated and give up.

None of us is immune to shipwreck. Come, beckons the fatal shore: come and die on my white sands, it said. And we do.

Some people cannot bear news like that. They think they must live forever, and they cry and wail when they realise that their time is coming. I do not feel that, and I did not weep at that news which the doctor gave me. The only thing that makes me sad is that I shall be leaving Africa when I die.

He thought of all the ways that so many people felt about life. Life was a matter of regret--how could it be anything else? We knew that we would lose the things we loved; we knew that sooner or later we would lose everything, and beyond that was a darkness, a state of non-being that we found hard to imagine, let alone accept.