Quotes About Mortality

Life is very long, unless it is not.

You are dying. No, that came out wrong. What you meant to express was the existential grief that comes with the knowledge that all things die. You are not dying, except insofar as you have always been dying.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

What after all, is a video game's subtextual preoccupation if not the erasure of mortality?

EMILY MARKS DAEDALUS 1875-1909 SHE HATH DIED OF DYSENTERY

Gabrielle Zevin's Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, a novel steeped in nostalgia and innovation that follows three friends as they come of age in the world of video games, creating stories and worlds that enhance, redefine, and preserve their rich bonds while attempting to defy the limits of mortality.

It would be so easy, Ismay thinks. You walk out. You swim for a while. You swim too far. You don't try to swim back. Your lungs fill up. It hurts for a bit, but then it's over. Nothing ever hurts again, and your conscience is clear. You don't leave a mess. Maybe your body washes up some day. Maybe it doesn't.

Macbeth has just heard the news that his wife had died, and he is giving the most famous soliloquy from the play, the "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow" speech.

To begin, it is narrated by Death!

A.J. runs their credit cards and concludes that a theft is an acceptable social loss while a death is an isolating one.

Your music is the music of death.

Everything about death is a cliché until you're in it.

In the end, the body betrayed everyone.

Cowards die many times before their actual deaths.

He has joined the great majority.

It is not fit that men should be compared with gods.

He wanted me to believe in something. I believe in plenty of things, I thought with a bitter smile. I believed that I was going to die tomorrow.

In the half darkness we look at each otherand smileand touch arms across his little, startlingly muscled body—this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,sleeper only the mortal sounds can awake,this blessing love gives again into our arms.

Little sleep's-head sprouting hair in the moonlight, when I come back we will go out together, we will walk out together among, the ten thousand things, each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages of dying is love.

The wages of dying are love.

I come out of the home for the aged, get on my bicycle, and think to myself that even if there is a communal grave it will in future not be of archaeological significance. Nevertheless, I have finally visited my deceased maternal grandmother who once bought me a spinning top.

It is clear that life naturally ends, and when the end comes, fear vanishes, because fear is itself a manifestation of life. On losing awareness and consciousness, life abruptly ends, and there can be no further thinking and no further meaning.

A single, dancing thread ties the people of the world together in a cohesive fabric. This is our humanness and mortality. We are all born with a similar challenge, borne from the blessing of ownership of this complex physical body.... With this ownership... comes the sometimes immense responsibility of health maintenance.

They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days.