Quotes About Mortality

If we can't face death, we'll never overcome it. You have to look it straight in the eye. Then you can turn around and walk back out into the light.

We all know one day we will die but don't know the exact date, we don't know that fucking exact date, say what you want to say to everyone who loves you or you love because we don't know the exact date."

Živi ništa ne znaju. Pou?ite me, mrtvi, kako se može umrijeti bez straha, ili bar bez užasa. Jer, smrt je besmisao, kao i život.

Li?im na usamljenog samrtnika što okrvavljenim noktom urezuje u stijenu znak o sebi.

It became clear to me how men die. I saw that it is not so hard. Or easy. It is nothing. One just starts living less and less, being less and less, thinking, feeling and knowing less and less. The rich flow of life dries up, and only a thin thread of uncertain consciousness remains, more and more meager, more and more insignificant. And then nothing happens, there is not anything, there is nothing. And nothing matters—it is all the same.

Uko?ila mi se ruka kojom držim pero, svije?a tiho kašljuca i prska sitnim varnicama brane?i se od smrti, a ja gledam u duge redove slova, u nišane misli, i ne znam jesam li ih ubio ili oživio.

Are you aware that humanity is just a blip? Not even a blip. Just a fraction of a fraction of what the universe has been and will become? Talk about perspective. I figure I can't feel so entirely stupid about saying what I said because, first of all, it's true. And second of all, there will be no remnant of me or my stupidity. No fossil or geographical shift that can document, really, even the most important historical human beings, let alone my paltry admissions.

I was dying, of course, but then we all are. Every day, in perfect increments.

Why did you bother creating me, he wanted to ask. Why bother giving me a brain and a realization of how miserable existence can be? Why did you invent creatures who die, and worse, who know they are going to die? What is the point of so unkind an act of creation?

Maybe googling people kills them … You keep looking them up to see where they are, until one day you look them up and they're dead.

Are you afraid of me? I mean, I read in a book... that people are scared off by people with diseases because it reminds them of their own mortality and stuff.

Maybe the secret truth about death is that dead people are whisked away from their current lives and forced to live somewhere else far away—a process similar to reincarnation but taking place not in the future but now. A sort of mortality-based witness protection program. And if you found them they would look the same as they always had. If only you knew where to find them. If only you knew where to look.

How was it, Cory kept thinking, that when a person died they were no longer anywhere? You could search the entire world and never find them. It was one thing for a body to stop working and be carted away under a sheet; it was another thing for the sense of that person to evaporate. The textural and indisputable sense, as strong but as hard to pinpoint as a gas.

Sometimes you think people will be around forever, and then you lose them with no warning at all.

It's weird," she said, "the way sometimes you're in your life, but other times you're looking back at it like a spectator. It kind of goes back and forth, back and forth." "And then you die." She laughed a little. "Yes. And then you die.

We have always found your mortal insistence on certainties strange. Nothing is as clear as you wish it to be. You have walked your path blindly until now. Time to open your eyes.

We're all dying from the moment we're born. That's all we do our entire lives, is die.

her smile was always to me like the shining out of an angel's face from behind a mask where brave struggles with heavy sorrows had left deep imprints of mortality.

The only thing I could do now for which my youth would be a truly notable feature would be to die. If I died now, I'd die young. Everything else, I'm doing middle-aged.

I was stunned by the way my mother's body was being taken to pieces, how each new week brought a new failure, how surreal the disintegration of a body was.

Death and the sun are not to be looked at steadily, La Rochefoucauld wrote.

A mortal life with love is endlessly superior to an immortal life without love.

As long as death exists, men will continue to exist only as a shadow, not a real thing!

Chickens are brave till the foxes come at night; mortals are courageous till the death comes at twilight.