Quotes About Mortality

He could contemplate, in a sentimental way, the idea of his wife, children and grandchildren arranged, well-dressed and weeping decorously, around his grave. His lovers, she ten years his junior and a handsome woman, and the lovely immortal, he imagined them disentangling their feet from his ribcage and walking on. It

Surely it's better to be human and live with grief, than outgrow your humanity and learn to raise the dead too late to raise your own.

The bird that is shot is a parent," he observed in an address to the British Association for the Advancement of Science. "We take advantage of its most sacred instincts to waylay it, and in depriving the parent of life, we doom the helpless offspring to the most miserable of deaths, that by hunger. If this is not cruelty, what is?

The very worst impulses of humankind can survive generations, centuries, even millennia. And the best of our individual efforts can die with us at the end of a single lifetime.

from the moment we are born we are dying every day in all sorts of physical, emotional, and spiritual ways.

Yes," Shannon said calmly. "I could have died. But so what? The stars would have come out tonight and the sun would have risen tomorrow morning. The only difference would be that I wouldn't see it." Shannon to Whip.

Too bad, how sad, life's a bitch and then you die.

The rocks fell where she laid them with a faint flat sound, and the afternoon seemed very still back of the dove calls and the cries of the plovers, back of a faint dying phrase, 'in the time of man'.

Death is the price we pay for life.

Aunt Helen Beck had many intentions about her death. She was about being dead the way some people are about being British - she wasn't, and it seemed she would never be, but it was clearly something she aspired to, since all the people she respected were.

INSTEAD OF LIVING CAUTIOUSLY AS IF DEATH IS THE ENEMY … I decided to live life fully and know that heaven is my friend.

Please. If you were mostly dead in the middle of the road I'd obviously stop. And then I'd watch you die." Kate to Will

And in the end blood and tears are alike because they stop too.

How could someone like me survive a plane crash? I didn't look like someone who could do that. I wasn't someone who could do that Maybe I hadn't Maybe I was dead. Maybe I was l was lying on the ground somewhere, rain falling over me, into my open eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't see anything. I didn't see me.

Thus every quarter-hour it puts the taste of death in my mouth, and shows me, but not gently, how I go whoring after oblivion.

How can I be kind? How can I find bird-relief in the nest-building of day-to-day? Necessity supplies no velvet wing with which to escape. I am indeed and mortally pierced with the seeds of love.

Animula vagula blandula Hospes comesque corporis Quae nunc abibis in loca Pallidula, rigida, nudula, Nec, et ut soles, dabis iocos. Little wandering soul, Guest and companion of my body, Where are you going to now? Away, into bare, bleak places, Never again to share a joke.

This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.

His blue eyes were watching her now; she saw in them the vulnerability, the invitation, the fear, as she sat down quietly, placed her open hand on his chest, felt the thump, thump of his heart, which would someday stop, as all hearts do. But there was no someday now.

Angelina said, "Mom. I don't want you to die. That's the whole thing. You took from me the ability to care for you in your old age, and I wanted to be with you when you died, when you die. Mom. I wanted that.

She could hear in the darkness of her car how his breathing was quicker now; and her own was, too. She wanted to say their hears were too old for this now; you can't keep doing this to a heart, can't keep expecting your heart to pull through.

they had joked about that - how the girl had no idea, as the plunked down their mugs of coffee, that her own arm would someday be sprinkled with age spots, or that cups of coffee had to be planned since blood pressure medicine made you widdle so much, that life picked up speed, and then most of it was gone - made you breathless, really.

they had joked about that—how the girl had no idea, as she plunked down their mugs of coffee, that her own arm would someday be sprinkled with age spots, or that cups of coffee had to be planned since blood pressure medicine made you widdle so much, that life picked up speed, and then most of it was gone—made you breathless, really.

Siempre estamos solos. Nacemos solos. Morimos solos. ¿Qué más da?