Quotes About Mortality

So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, And Death once dead, there's no more dying then. —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Because death's an insult anytime. When somebody hurries it along, that's the biggest insult of all.

I don't think we are ready to die, any of us, not without being escorted.

If he has a last thought, if there is time for a last thought, it will simply be, So this is what a last thought is like.

I stood listening to the night breeze rustle the leaves, and watched the bats flicker against the last light, and felt the sweeping melancholy of those who pass their days in the midst of insupportable beauty in the knowledge that one day they will die.

When did a sheep last die of old age? Sheep do not own themselves, do not own their lives. They exist to be used, every last ounce of them, their flesh to be eaten, their bones to be crushed and fed to poultry. Nothing escapes, except perhaps the gall bladder, which no one will eat. Descartes should have thought of that. The soul, suspended in the dark, bitter gall, hiding.

I am now no more than a pile of blood, bone and meat that is unhappy.

Aber vielleicht ist das die Natur des Todes, dass uns alles an ihm, jedes letzte Ding, unpassend erscheint.

me refiero al mundo, al ancho mundo. Pues eso es el mundo desde cierta perspectiva: una prisión en la que te vas deteriorando, te encorvas, padeces incontinencia, mueres y luego (si crees en ciertas historias en las que yo no creo) te despiertas en alguna playa desconocida donde tienes que repetir otra vez toda la función.

Qué quieres decir con eso de "si no hay otras vidas"? –¿Si se terminan las vidas y los números, y todo lo demás? ¿Quién seré si me muero y punto? –

Voy a terminar en un hoyo en el suelo —dice él—. Y tú también. Como todos.

Sólo es una cuestión de edad, de ciclos de deseo y de apatía de un cuerpo que lentamente se enfría y muere. Cuando era joven el simple olor de una mujer me excitaba: ahora solo la más dulce, la más joven, la más reciente tiene ese poder. Cualquier día de estos serán jovencitos. Esperando los bárbaros

Sólo es una cuestión de edad, de ciclos de deseo y de apatía de un cuerpo que lentamente se enfría y muere. Cuando era joven el simple olor de una mujer me excitaba: ahora solo la más dulce, la más joven, la más reciente tiene ese poder. Cualquier día de estos serán jovencitos.

hasta qué punto es real nuestra posesión? Las flores se convierten en polvo, Hendrik desengancha y se va, la tierra nada sabe de cercas, las piedras seguirán en su sitio cuando yo no sea más que polvo, la propia comida que devoro solamente pasa a través de mí.

Man, it was a good thing vampires didn't get cancer. Lately he'd been chain-smoking like a felon.

Death was one sure way to find peace, Rhage thought. And everyone died. Even vampires. Eventually.

It was such a shame, John thought to himself, that it took death to make him appreciate the living so much.

The thing was all mortals were going to lose the ones they loved. It was the way life worked. But for the most of the time, that reality was so far off in the mind that it had no more weight than a mere hypothetical. There were reminders, however, and the almost's, the near-misses, the oh-God-please-no's, snapped your chain and got you to stop and feel what was in your heart.

The trouble was, he realized with dread, when your heart finally stopped beating in your chest, everything that you wished you'd said but hadn't, all the missing pieces of yourself that you had yet to give, all the failures you had stuffed under the rug in the guise of life being so very busy . . . that stopped, too. The mid-stride step, never to be completed, was the worst regret anyone could have.

The Black Dagger Brotherhood were keeping him alive, so that they could kill him. Given the sum of Xcor's earthly pursuits, which had been at their best violent, and at their worst downright depraved, it seemed an apt end for him. -Xcor's thoughts

I sometimes wonder . . ." She shrugged. "I mean, what if everyone's lied about death? What if there is no Fade, but instead you're just stuck in your body forever, conscious but unable to move?" Great. She'd wanted to try to lighten the mood. Nice. Try. "Well, bodies do . . ." He cleared his throat. "You know, rot.

The thing was, all mortals were going to lose the ones they loved. It was the way life worked. But for most of the time, that reality was so far off in the mind that it had no more weight than a mere hypothetical. There were reminders, however, and the almost's, the near-misses, the oh-God-please-no's, snapped your chain and got you to stop and feel what was in your heart.

God, he'd never thought about it properly before, but from the first heartbeat struck within a vital body, a bell got tolled and the clock started to run. A bargain you weren't even aware of having made was put into play, with destiny holding all the cards. As minutes and hours and days and months and years passed, history was written as you ran out of time until your last heartbeat marked the end of the ride and the time to tally wins and losses.

Strange how mortality made moments like this with her infinite.