Quotes About Mortality

Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by day, in all the thousand small, uncaring ways.

I have the happiness of the passing moment, and what more can mortal ask?

A cup to the dead already, - Hurrah for the next that dies.

Anything other than death is a minor injury.

Fundamentally, all writing is about the same thing: it's about dying, about the brief flicker of time we have here, and the frustrations that it creates.

Whom the gods love, die young, no matter how long they live.

Only the young die good.

O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again...

The day which we fear as our last is but the birth-day of our eternity; and it is the only way to it.

When I was young I used to think the only certain thing about life was that I should one day die. Now I think the only certain thing about life is that there is no such thing as death.

As a robot I could have lived forever. But I tell you all today I would rather die a man, than live for all eternity as a machine.

Rekao je da nije niko i ništa; putnik na zemlji, prolaznik u ovom prolaznom vremenu, senka na suncu...

Ne treba mene žaliti. Jer svi mi umiremo samo jednom, a veliki ljudi po dva puta; jednom kad ih nestane sa zemlje, a drugi put kad propadne njihova zadužbina.

Bana hiç ac?may?n… Biz, s?radan insanlar, yaln?z bir sefer ölürüz. Ama büyük adamlar iki sefer ölürler. Birinci sefer bu dünyay? b?rak?p göçtükleri, ikinci sefer de b?rakt?klar? eserler, y?k?l?p kayboldu?u zaman.

There is no need to feel sorry for me. For all of us die only once, whereas great men die twice, once when they leave this world and a second time when their lifework disappears.

all of us die only once, whereas great men die twice, once when they leave this world and a second time when their lifework disappears.

The clock stands still yet time does not. Even as he lies here he can feel time at work on him like a wasting disease, like the quicklime they pour on corpses. Time is gnawing away at him, devouring one by one the cells that make him up. His cells are going out like lights.

Like everyone else, I am going to die. But the words - the words live on for as long as there are readers to see them, audiences to hear them. It is immortality by proxy. It is not really a bad deal, all things considered.

Because dead people don't get angry. They're dead.

The point was, Eve supposed, no matter who you were—sex, race, tax bracket—death leveled it all out.

It's funny how a near death experience makes you realize not making time is wasting time.

We're all-inclusive in Homicide, 'cause whatever your race, color, or creed, you can get dead.

We begin to die with our first breath. Death is inside us, ticking closer, closer, with every beat of our heart. It is the end no man can escape. Yet we cling to life, we worship it despite its transience.

She could smell death there. No matter what was used to eradicate it, the sulky stink of it slid through cracks, around doorways, and it tainted the air with the grinning reminder of mortality.