Quotes About Mortality

The dead person is not truly dead until the last person who rememebers them dies.

The indignities visited on his corpse could not touch him; in death he was inviolate. I had no such grace.

No one lies down in this place. Unless they're dead. When you're dead, you get to lie down and only after we've tried to resuscitate you.

It had also affected the old fishermen's hard complexions, until one fancied that when Death claimed them it could only be with the aid, not of any slender modern dart, but the good serviceable harpoon of a seventeenth century woodcut.

So we die before our own eyes; so we see some chapters of our lives come to their natural end.

No extra hospital words. I don't want a relationship with disease. I want to have a relationship with death. That's important. But to have a relationship with disease --that's some kind of bourgeoisie invention. And I hate it.

I just couldn't understand how you could go from being alive, from having molecules and blood cells constantly shifting around inside you, and thought processes and a mind full of memories and dreams and love and hate, and in just one tiny second these miraculous things stop and you're dead. How could all that disappear? What happened to your soul, your essence, your wonder? Just because a muscle stops beating? It made absolutely no sense.

It's amazing how many grandparents some children go through. At my last school one wretched child had SEVENTEEN. Another one died every time there was homework due. Think about it, class. SEVENTEEN.

It wasn't hard to imagine them surrounded by their families as they did the last of their breathing. Said their goodbyes. Kissed cheeks. No luggage to check in. Leave your body with us, I thought. We'll look after that.

To truly know death, you'd have to have loved.

poor Yorick of infinite jest.

The few who are ballsy enough to actually live wind up in madhouses, tortured by actuality. We all wind up in the same place anyhow … food for unseeing worms.

No one is asked whether they wish/ To be born. Everyone is asked to die. / Life is comprised of the noisy silence / One makes of it.

There's this space in our lives that we attempt to fill with more space and the nothingness grows larger while our lives get smaller, a fact we can't seem to accept very well. So, we take walks and we work and we go to movies and basketball games and church and we Exist in our nothing lives and when we die a speech is made and we are forgotten once again, only more permanently this time.

my chest hurts nearly every day now. people laugh and tell me i have heartburn. some tell me i'm heartbroken or depressed but i've been both and this is neither. yep, this time i think i'm going to bite the big one, keel over, croak and all of that any day now, any hour, any minute, any second, anytime.

The only way love ever affected death was in making it more painful.

What do you think of the old boy?" said Jean. "He's got a strangely sunny view of ten years of defeat", said Locke, "but if I get killed in the next six weeks, I want him to speak at my funeral.

He lay there shaking in the light of the red lamps, in a silent hall, alone with his triumph, unable to move and bleeding to death.

Arms out, falling backward, staring up into the hot near-noon sky with the confident assurance of all twelve of his years that death and injury were things reserved solely for people that weren't Bug.

Three things must you take up and three things must you lose before you die: a key, a crown, a child." Patience pushed her hood up over her head. "You will die when a silver rain falls.

We are all born, and we all die—be it from age and illness, like your people, or from battle, like mine. Everything between is what you make of it," Grimnir said.

Cowards die many times before their deaths, da valiant never taste of death but once, eh?" The quote came out of nowhere, so random it made Magnus lower the torch. "I'm shocked. You know Julius Caesar?

Listen to people in their 80s. They have looked across the street at death for a decade. They know what's vital.

I never think of the life I'll miss after I'm dead, or all that I missed before I was born. It's the time I'm as good as dead during this, my one and only life, that makes me tear at my hair. It seems to me that if I carefully gathered all of the time I was entirely alive I would have amassed perhaps two years of life so far...