Quotes About Mortality

the old with the young, the decrepit with the lusty—all equal before sleep, death's brother.

There is a taint of death, a flavor of mortality in lies,—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget.

It would have been so much in accordance with the wisdom of life, which consists in putting out of sight all the reminders of our folly, of our weakness, of our mortality; all that makes against our efficiency — the memory of our failures, the hints of our undying fears, the bodies of our dead friends.

the men, the women, the children; the old with the young, the decrepit with the lusty—all equal before sleep, death's brother.

You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose.

Vosotros sabéis que odio, detesto, que me resulta intolerable la mentira, no porque sea más recto que los demás, sino porque sencillamente me espanta. Hay un tinte de muerte, un sabor de mortalidad en la mentira que es exactamente lo que más odio y detesto en el mundo, lo que quiero olvidar. Me hace sentir desgraciado y enfermo, como la mordedura de algo corrupto.

Ja sabeu que odio, detesto, no suporto la mentida, i no perquè sigui més íntegre que vosaltres, sinó simplement perquè m'horroritza. A les mentides hi ha un tint de mort, un regust de mortalitat - exactament el que més odio del món - una cosa que vull oblidar. Em fa sentir malalt i miserable, com si mossegués alguna cosa putrefacta. Qüestió de temperament, suposo.

There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies--which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world--what I want to forget.

You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavor of mortality in lies,—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose.

T]he tremendous fact of our isolation, of the loneliness impenetrable and transparent, elusive and everlasting; of the indestructible loneliness that surrounds, envelops, clothes every human soul from the cradle to the grave, and, perhaps, beyond.

There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies

and youth, strength, genius, thoughts, achievements, simple hearts-all dies...No matter.

A taint of imbecile rapacity blew through it all, like a whiff from some corpse.

There is a taint of death, a flavor of mortality in lies—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do.

Las mentiras tienen cierto sabor fúnebre, guardan relación con la mortalidad.

One lives too long. Happy X-mas.

Over the white rims of berths stuck out heads with blinking eyes; but the bodies were lost in the gloom of those places, that resembled narrow niches for coffins in a whitewashed and lighted mortuary.

Can't say I saw any road or any upkeep, unless the body of a middle-aged negro, with a bullet-hole in the forehead, upon which I absolutely stumbled three miles farther on, may be considered as a permanent improvement.

you know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies— which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world— what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do.

Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend.

The time therefore that any man doth live, is but a little, and the place where he liveth, is but a very little corner of the earth, and the greatest fame that can remain of a man after his death, even that is but little, and that too, such as it is whilst it is, is by the succession of silly mortal men preserved, who likewise shall shortly die, and even whiles they live know not what in very deed they themselves are: and much less can know one, who long before is dead and gone.

he knew very well we were all mortal

You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies -which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world -what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose.

As medical care has improved, life expectancy has increased—on average, in the United States, by some two years between 1990 and 2000. But for the poorest group of Americans there has been no progress, and for poor women life expectancy has actually been declining.