Quotes About Decay

We are living even now among punishments and ruins.

The thing already looks like its best days were decades ago.

Everyone is a mouth breather and everyone has rampant tooth decay.

As the sun set over the Golden Gate Bridge, I looked out onto America: once, the land of the free. Now, the land of the zombies.

With either soul or body lost, all perisheth.

Everybody's dying, she said. Just pick a disease.

Civilization begins with order, grows with liberty, and dies with chaos.

A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself within

The bodies draped down through the leaves like rancid baubles in the locks of a horrible harlot.

Humanity is the cancer of nature.

After an attack with weapons of mass destruction by a terrorist group or a terrorist nation, the next major threat to our existence is the violent decay of our civilization due to violence-enabling in the electronic media.

Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.

Public virtue is the vital spirit of republics, and history proves that when this has decayed and the love of money has usurped its place, although the forms of free government may remain for a season, the substance has departed forever.

As we pulled out of Zacatecas, the air was thick with the odors of smoldering ash, bloody dust, putrefying flesh. The rich ripe smells of triumph.

What kind of world has this become?" "A really sick one

Filling a place with people who had no hope and knew they were about to descend into a rotten, horrific spiral of insanity ended up creating some of the most wretched anarchic zones ever known to man.

Dust coated the long-dark light fixtures on the ceiling, at least half of them busted, jagged glass screwed into rusty holes.

All stone and dark wood, it had held up for the most part, though it now had a faded, sad look, as if losing its former occupants had stolen its soul away.

Music alone is a vital force, an instrument for rescuing the world from its moral and spiritual decay.

New York has collapsed.

Even the tiniest things mean something. Whenever you see flies or insects in a still life—a wilted petal, a black spot on the apple—the painter is giving you a secret message. He's telling you that living things don't last—it's all temporary. Death in life. That's why they're called natures mortes. Maybe you don't see it at first with all the beauty and bloom, the little speck of rot. But if you look closer—there it is.

There is to me about this place a smell of rot, the smell of rot that ripe fruit makes. Nowhere, ever, have the hideous mechanics of birth and copulation and death—those monstrous upheavals of life that the Greeks call miasma, defilement—been so brutal or been painted up to look so pretty; have so many people put so much faith in lies and mutability and death death death.

living things don't last—it's all temporary. Death in life. That's why they're called natures mortes. Maybe you don't see it at first with all the beauty and bloom, the little speck of rot. But if you look closer—there it is.

back there or maybe even taken an actual shit, and then tried to cover it up with a bunch of coconut air freshener that smelled like suntan lotion. The seats were greasy, and patched with duct tape, and the shocks were nearly gone. Whenever we struck a