Quotes About Mortality

In a Chicago cafe the other night, an elderly man passed a table. "There goes George," observed an onlooker. "When he was young, he was a handsome guy and had many companies. Left a wife and two kids to starve, and ran off with another woman. And now look at him. Old, broke and very sad." "That's the way-it-goes," nodded Elly Kleinman. "Time wounds all heels.

Life is a whim of several billion cells to be you for a while

There is not a single person I have met in my lifetime who is comfortable talking about death. It's the biggest downside to our youth-centric culture. Death is a bummer, so let's not talk about it. Let's hide it away and hope it never strikes close to home.

That's the problem, isn't it? Our youth enamored society hides death from us, makes us believe that we will live forever," Jack asserted, rather forcefully. "We don't want to see death. We even hide old people so that we don't have to be reminded of our own mortality. In other cultures, old age is celebrated, embraced even. Death is a part of life.

Tutte le stelle muoiono per collisione esterna o per esplosione a lungo covata interna. Ma questo nostro globo muore perché i suoi abitanti preferiscono alla sua vita limitata (che pur calcolabile in miliardi di anni li ossessiona) l'illimitato della propria peccabilità. Solo un Dio che tenesse all'ordine dell'universo li potrebbe fermare.

Ci sforziamo di conservarci in salute per poter morir bene di radiazioni o di aria avvelenata.

Aussi terrible que puisse paraître, je pense que l'heure de notre mort est inscrite quelque part et qu'on ne peu rien faire pour y échapper.

L'art est long, la vie est brève.

La mayoría de los suicidas morían desaliñados y sucios, con costras de mugre en la espalda, los dientes cariados al extremo de la podredumbre, las uñas largas y sucias, hongos en la piel, lagañosos. La muerte arribaba a ellos mucho antes de colgarse de los barrotes o de rebanarse la carótida con un trozo de azulejo.

Every mundanity of life grows infinitely more precious in the face of impending death.

We're all made of stardust Mr. Strickland. Oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, and calcium. If some of us get our way and our Countries fire off their warheads, then we shall return to stardust. All of us. And what color will our stars be then? That is the question. A question you might ask yourself.

I don't think there is life beyond death, I don't. But I do believe that we get this clarity in the last minute of our life. The titles we achieved, the honors we managed, they all vanish. You are left alone with you and your deeds and the things you didn't do. And that moment of clarity gives you either peace or the most tremendous fear, because you finally have no cover, and you finally realize exactly who you are.

We feel immortal when we are young. Or maybe we just don't care that much about death yet?

Death is a lover to be feared and there was only one way to overcome that fear - by being her executioner.

Death would not be called bad, O people, if one knew how to truly die.

Death would not be called bad, O people, if one knew how to truely die.

Even when you're making a movie about life, death is a presence, and I guess it's part of my dramatic viewpoint. I'm not sure why exactly. Maybe I'm drawn to it as a story element.

First, we must ask in what relation the conceptions of sin and death stand to one another in Irenæus. We have already noted the assertion that he, in common with other Eastern theologians, places relatively little emphasis on sin, because he regards salvation as a bestowal of life rather than of forgiveness, and as a victory over mortality rather than over sin.

Anyone's death always releases something like an aura of stupefaction, so difficult is it to grasp this irruption of nothingness and to believe that it has actually taken place.

Man is the only animal who knows that he is going to die. And so some people sustain themselves with the notion that this short life is only a beginning, that there is an endless party afterwards with music and angels somewhere up there in the exosphere.

The light is dying, as all light must.

breathing, sleeping, drinking, eating, working, dreaming, everything we do is dying. to live, in fact, is to die.

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

The only certainty is death.