Quotes About Mortality

Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces, After the last sacraments, When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers, To molder among the bones of the dead.  Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will Devour you with kisses, That I have kept the form and the divine essence Of my decomposed love!

Saniye, tam üç bin alt? yüz kez saatte, F?s?ldar:: An?msa! - Çabuk çabuk, sesiyle Bir böceÄŸin, Åžimdi der: Ben GeçmiÅŸ'im bile, Ä°ÄŸrenç hortumumla emdim ömrünü hatta!

Yet who has not clasped a skeleton in his arms, Who has not fed upon what belongs to the grave?What matters the perfume, the costume or the dress? He who shows disgust believes that he is handsome.  Noseless dancer, irresistible whore, Tell those dancing couples who act so offended: Proud darlings, despite the art of makeup You all smell of death! Skeletons perfumed with musk

Bella soy, ¡oh, mortales!, como un sueño de piedra, y mi seno, que a todos por turno a torturado, fue hecho para inspirar al poeta un amor tal como mi materia, inmortal y callado

Aquel que nunca se despertó en un lecho anónimo, al lado de un rostro que ya no volverá a ver; y no salió de un burdel al alba, con ganas de tirarse a un río por asco físico de la existencia, se ha perdido algo.

L'art est long, et le temps est court.

I carry death in my left pocket. Sometimes I take it out and talk to it: Hello, baby, how you doing? When you coming for me? I'll be ready.

in this land some of us fuck more than we die but most of us die better than we fuck

the tired sunsets and the tired people - it takes a lifetime to die and no time at all.

Finally there is nothing here for death to take away.

when we were kids laying around the lawn on our bellies we often talked about how we'd like to die and we all agreed on the same thing; we'd all like to die fucking (although none of us had done any fucking) and now that we are hardly kids any longer we think more about how not to die and although we're ready most of us would prefer to do it alone under the sheets now that most of us have fucked our lives away.

I hope that death contains less than this.

people are not good to each other. perhaps if they were our deaths would not be so sad.

Each person is only given so many evenings and each wasted evening is a gross violation against the natural course of your only life.

morning night and noon the traffic moves through and the murder and treachery of friends and lovers and all the people move through you. pain is the joy of knowing the unkindest truth that arrives without warning. life is being alone death is being alone. even the fools weep morning night and noon.

Most people are not ready for death, theirs or anybody elses.

We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.

escape from the black widow spider is a miracle as great as art. what a web she can weave slowly drawing you to her she'll embrace you then when she's satisfied she'll kill you still in her embrace and suck the blood from you.

Some nights I knew that if I slept I would die.

I wasn't going anywhere and neither was the rest of the world. We were all just hanging around waiting to die and meanwhile doing little things to fill the space. Some of use weren't even doing little things. We were vegetables.

There's nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don't live up until their death.

Someday," I told Jan, "when they demonstrate that the world has four dimensions instead of just three, a man will be able to go for a walk and just disappear. No burial, no tears, no illusions, no heaven or hell. People will be sitting around and they'll say, 'What happened to George?' And somebody will say, 'Well, I don't know. He said he was going out for a pack of cigarettes.

well, death says, as he walks by, I'm going to get you anyhow no matter what you've been: writer, cab-driver, pimp, butcher, sky-diver, I'm going to get you

There's a small balcony here, the door is open and I can see the lights of the cars on the Harbor Freeway south, they never stop, that roll of lights, on and on. All those people. What are they doing? What are they thinking? We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't.