Quotes About Mortality

Suicide iss just for the body," the German said. "The body settles nothing. It iss of no importance. It iss just to be kept clean when possible.

Quizá muramos en ese instante en que nos damos cuenta, en que admitimos, que el mal tiene una estructura lógica.

la finalidad de la vida no es otra sino la de aprestarse a estar mucho tiempo muerto.

Gal b?tent t? akimirk?, kai mes suprantame, sutinkame su tuo, kad egzistuoja blogio logika, mes ir numirštame.

Babam?n insanlar uzun zaman ölü kalabilmeye haz?rlanmak için yaÅŸarlar dediÄŸi akl?ma geldi.

He stood there unsteady in the cold, mumbling syllables which almost resolved into her name, as though he could recall, and summon back, a time before death entered the world, before accident, before magic, and before magic despaired, to become religion.

resurrection a dispensable preoccupation for one who had not yet lived.

Boy, I was daid.

His toes were making little squelching noises, each time he took a step, and what if the last thing you knew before you died was just some pathetic discomfort like that, like your shoes were soaked and your socks were wet, and you weren't ever going to get to change them? Rydell

But I suppose that is the way of an artiste, no? You needed this world built for you, this beach, this place. To die.

Sleep is where we touch what is better left unexamined. There, the whole of life is bundled up, dwindled. There the carefully hoarded and enjoyed personality, our only treasure and at the same time our only defense must die into the ultimate truth of things, the black lightning that splits and destroys all, the positive, unquestionable nothingness.

His manual of heaven and hell lay open before me, and I could perceive my nothingness in this scheme.

And dying is more natural than living, because what could be more unnatural than that panicstricken thing leaping and falling like a last flame beneath the ribs?

He doesn't mind if he dies... indeed, he would like to die; but yet he fears to fall. He would welcome a long sleep; but not at the price of falling to it.

They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up and looked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood—and his gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition. In Simon's right temple, a pulse began to beat on the brain.

The pile of guts was a black blob of flies that buzzed like a saw. After a while these flies found Simon. Gorged, they alighted by his runnels of sweat and drank. They tickled under his nostrils and played leapfrog on his thighs. They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned.

Flaws would not only bring death but, far worse, humiliation.

But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.

The old man nodded. "Now I can die." She glanced at him. "Don't." Her tone was surprisingly tender, and probably she sensed how important he really was to her, because when he did die, two years further on, she went right after, and most of the people who knew her well agreed it was the sudden lack of opposition that undid her.

some of the wrong people die. Be ready for it. This isn't Curious George Uses the Potty.

But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.

It was 5.48, and she knew that she would never die.

The wrong people die, some of them, and the reason is this: life is not fair.

Worse, he died. Mr. Shog, I mean. (Don't ask how you could tell. It was easy. One morning he just stopped sweating, so there it was.)