Quotes About Perspective

I find relief from the questions only when I concede that I am not obliged to know everything. I remind myself it is sufficient to know what I know, and that what I know, may not always be true.

I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure.

Pain, unless it is physical, was sold to you (by your culture).

Most people would instantly start feeling ten years older if someone were to convince them that they were actually born a decade before their birthdate.

We're truly alive when facing the prospect of our own mortality, if you convince yourself that you'll live forever, you'll never really have lived at all.

Only the dead, can speak about their world.

Seventy years of life is nothing in front of a single day of death

Old age is catching up with me, or am I catching up with it?

The thought of death destroys some people and saves others.

I've always been under the assumption that death is a one-time, encompassing event." "Why would you ever think that?

Whenever I see an ambulance, I like to think there is a baby being born, rather than a death.

Death: "THERE ARE BETTER THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN ALCOHOL, ALBERT."Albert: "Oh, yes, sir. But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them.

Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

The only reason people die, is because EVERYONE does it. You all just go along with it.It's RUBBISH, death. It's STUPID. I don't want nothing to do with it.

I'm not scared of death, I just don't want to seek it out.

Nobody died. how can you kill an idea? How can you kill the personification of an action?""Then what died? who are you mourning?""A point of view.

I wish I could recommend the experience of not being killed to everyone.

Can I just say that dying sucks? All that bullshit about seeing the light and having this inner peace, blah, blah, blah. It's crap.

Thank God, my name isn't in the list of thosewho died or werekilled yesterday!

Corpses sour you. They are bad for objectivity.

Life is short enough, there is nothing worth here to take your life, and those things we do gain can never be taken to our grave.

What kind of lifehave you lived, little one, that everything seems to be a question of fair and unfair? Life and death just are. Fair has nothing to do with it.

Just when you think you're in the cat-bird's seat, the Angel of Death calls "dibs" on shotgun.

Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness – to glory?