Quotes About Mortality

As a child I dreamt of love—as a young man of fame—as a man, of the tomb, that last love of those who have no love left.

J'ai regardé à ma montre, et j'ai calculé combien de temps il me restait à vivre ; j'ai vu que j'avais encore une heure à peine. Il me reste assez de papier sur ma table pour retracer à la hête tous les souvenirs de ma vie et toutes les circonstances qui ont influé sur cet enchaînement stupide et logique de jours et de nuits , de larmes et de rires, qu'on a coutume d'appeler l'existence d'un homme.

Il tomba par terre. Il était mort. Trente-six heures après, sur la demande

Analízate bien: ¿has tenido algún sentimiento que haya desaparecido? No, todo permanece, ¿verdad?, todo. Las momias que tenemos en el corazón nunca se vuelven polvo y, cuando asomamos la cabeza por el tragaluz, las vemos abajo, inmóviles, mirándonos con sus ojos abiertos.

Une vie! Quelques jours et puis plus rien! On naît, on grandit, on est heureux, on attend, puis on meurt.

Everything I see reminds me that in a few days I shall no longer see it... It's horrible... I shall see nothing more... nothing of what exists... the smallest objects that we use... glasses... plates... beds where people sleep so comfortably... carriages. It's so lovely, going out in a carriage, in the evening... How much I enjoyed all that!

La vie est une côte. Tant qu'on monte, on regarde le sommet, et on se sent heureux; mais, lorsqu'on arrive en haut, on aperçoit tout d'un coup la descente, et la fin, qui est la mort. Ça va lentement quand on monte, mais ça va vite quand on descend. A votre âge, on est joyeux. On espère tant de choses, qui n'arrivent jamais d'ailleurs. Au mien, on n'attend plus rien... que la mort.

But it is sufficient to reflect for a moment, in order to understand that this world was not made for such creatures as we are. Thought, which is developed by a miracle in the nerves of the cells in our brain, powerless, ignorant and confused as it is, and as it will always remain, makes all of us who are intellectual beings eternal and wretched exiles on earth.

Je voudrais arrêter le temps, arrêter l'heure. Mais elle va, elle va, elle passe, elle me prend de seconde en seconde un peu de moi pour le néant de demain. Et je ne revivrai jamais.

First my husband, then my parents died. After that I lost my two sisters. When death comes to someone's home it's as if it wants to get as much done as quickly as possible to save coming again for a long time.

Life is a slope. As long as you're going up you're looking towards the top and you feel happy; but when you reach it, suddenly you can see the road going downhill and death is at the end of it all. It's slow going up but quick going down.

Death need not be sad, it should be a matter of indifference.

Niciodat? nu se mai întoarce o fiin??. Se vor naÈ™te milioane È™i miliarde, aproape la fel, cu ochi, nas, gur?, tidv? È™i înl?untru o gândire, f?r? ca vreodat? s? se mai arate aceasta care era culcat? în patul ?sta.

Hát mindenki aljas, hazug és álnok? Szeme könnybe borult. Ábrándjainkat néha olyan szomorúan siratjuk, mint a halottakat.

Vivre enfin, c'est mourir!

Soha senki sem tér vissza. Milliók és milliárdok fognak megszületni, körülbelül hasonlóak egymáshoz, lesz szemük, orruk, szájuk, koponyájuk, gondolat is benne, de az, aki ebben az ágyban fekszik, sohasem jelenik meg újra.

És most a halálomat érzem mindenben, akármit csinálok. Minden lépés a halálhoz visz közelebb, minden mozdulat, minden lehelet annak az utálatos munkáját sietteti. Lélegzés, alvás, evés, munka, álom, minden, amit csinálunk – halál. Egyszóval élni annyi, mint meghalni!

The deeds of men, as footprints in the desert. Nothing under the circling moons is fated to last. Even the sun goes down.

Ice is for death and endings.

Don't flatter yourself. We're all specks of dust in the universe.

A day came when I should have died, and after that nothing seemed very important. So I have stayed as I am, without regret, separated from the normal human condition.

We know only two roads One which leads to the factory And the other, Which leads to the Crematorium

As I grow older I am unpleasantly impressed by the fact that giving each human being but one life is a bad scheme.

I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, since by tonight I shall be no more.