Quotes About Tragedy

It's a blessing to die at the hand of someone beautiful

Theirs wasn't the only love story ended by the gods, but it was the only one that ended the gods.

That was the year Zosma sank to its knees and bled great gouts of men into a war about nothing.

Pensé que estabas muerta. Y... quise... morir yo también.

The real 1960s began on the afternoon of November 22, 1963. It came to seem that Kennedy's murder opened some malign trap door in American culture, and the wild bats flapped out.

You know that feeling," she said, "when you are reading a book, and you know that it is going to be a tragedy; you can feel the cold and darkness coming, see the net drawing tight around the characters who live and breathe on the pages. But you are tied to the story as if being dragged behind a carriage and you cannot let go or turn the course aside.

Oh God." said Magnus, "they're dead. They're all dead!

On a Tuesday night they were wed, And by Friday they were dead. And they buried them in the churchyard side by side, Oh my love, And they buried them in the churchyard side by side." Breaking away from Gideon with some reluctance, Sophie rose to her feet and dusted off her dress. "Please forgive me, my dear Mr. Lightwood- I mean Gideon- but I must go and murder the cook. I shall be directly back.

Achilles was murdered with a poisoned arrow, and Jason died alone, killed by his own rotting ship. Such is the fate of heroes.

Cuando estás leyendo un libro, y sabes que habrá una tragedia; puedes sentir el frió y la oscuridad llegando, ver la red tejiéndose cerca de los personajes que viven y respiran en las páginas. Pero estas tan atado a la historia como si fueras tirado detrás de un carruaje, y no puedes dejarlo pasar o cambiar el rumbo haciéndose a un lado.

Funerals are always so sad," said a woman who had introduced herself as Irina Cartwright, staring at Julian with a deep pitying stare. When he didn't respond, she shifted her gaze to Kit. "Don't you think?" "I wouldn't know," said Kit. "My father was eaten by demons.

How much love people have denied themselves through the ages because they believed they did not deserve it. As if the waste of love is not the greater tragedy.

Mark whirled on them. His eyes were blind, unseeing. "You bring the twins in front of me and you kill them over and over. My Ty, he doesn't understand why I can't save him. You bring me Dru and when she laughs to see the fairytale castle, all ringed round with hedges, you throw her against the thorns until their pierce her small body. And you bid me wash in Octavian's blood for the blood of an innocent child is magic under the Hill.

It's never a tragedy to love somebody.

On a Tuesday they were wed And by Friday they were dead And they buried them in the churchyard side by side, Oh, my love, And they buried them in the churchyard side by side.

After all, it was never Darnay he quoted, only Sydney, drunk and wrecked and dissipated. Sydney, who died for love.

You can't pay for tragedy with more tragedy, or draw life from death." "I

What about Isabelle?" Simon asked. "Where is she?" The humor, such as it was, left Jace's expression. "She won't come out of her room," he said. "She thinks that what happened to Max was her fault. She won't even come to the funeral." "Have you tried talking to her?" "No," Jace said, "we've been punching her repeatedly in the face instead. Why, do you think that won't work?" "Just thought I'd ask." Simon's tone was mild.

Oh, God," Magnus said. "They're dead. They're all dead.

It's the Divine Comedy, not the Divine Tragedy.

In the words of Euripides, 'those whom the Gods wish to destroy, first they make mad'.

A year after the Great Plague, London was destroyed by fire. Seventy per cent of its houses vanished into the flames. St Paul's Cathedral, the Royal Exchange, Christ's Hospital and the north end of London Bridge were engulfed. Thirteen thousand buildings, including eighty-nine churches, disappeared for ever.

One of the most painful aspects of the war was that the bereaved were left without a body to bury. Almost half the British dead were posted Missing, leaving their families with the agonized hope that they might one day return – alternating with the bitter knowledge that their remains were lost in the mud of France.

One of the most shocking aspects of the Spanish Flu was that, like its predecessors the Black Death and the Plague, it struck with terrifying speed. Victims could be fine at breakfast and dead by teatime.