He would reach for me in the middle of the night, nearly every single night, wrapping one of those solid arms around my waist and pulling me in close. So. Close.
Everybody has got to die, but I have always believed an exception would be made in my case.
Someone once said that death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live. I could tell you who said it, but who the hell really cares.
With one long breath, caught and held in his chest, he fought his sadness over his solitary life. Don’t cry, you idiot! Live or die, but don’t poison everything…
Amy [Winehouse] changed pop music forever, I remember knowing there was hope, and feeling not alone because of her. She lived jazz, she lived the blues.
Cauldron save you.Mother hold you.Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.Fear no evil.Feel no pain.Go, and enter eternity.
Listen! What is life? It is a feather, it is the seed of the grass, blown hither and thither, sometimes multiplying itself and dying in the act, sometimes carried away into the heavens. But if that seed be good and heavy it may perchance travel a little way on the road it wills. It is well to try and journey one’s road and to fight with the air. Man must die. At the worst he can but die a little sooner.
The emotional element which gives an obsessive value to communal existence is death.
All my life as an artist I have asked myself: What pushes me continually to make sculpture? I have found the answer. art is an action against death. It is a denial of death.
In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will. The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and reality, even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting. I’ve thought a great deal about my life and my country. I think there is little that can be truly known. My family has been fortunate. Others were less so. As they are often quick to point out.
He made me feel unhinged . . . like he could take me apart and put me back together again and again.
My mother was killed in a plane crash, so I hate travelling in planes. Death is so unexpected. I would actually rather stay at home and not go anywhere.
What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life–to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?
No popularity exists when tragedy strikes. All that’s left are human hearts and love and ache. We all love each other, deep down, and when we see another soul in pain we can’t help but hurt too.
After your death you will be what you were before your birth.
The worms do not take heed of caste and rank when they feast on our ashes, the Raja said. Your subjects will not remember you. They will not remember the shade of your eyes, the colors you favored, or the beauty of your wives. They will only remember your impression upon their hearts and whether you filled them with glee or grief. That is your immortality.
The death of a parent, he wrote, ‘despite our preparation, indeed, despite our age, dislodges things deep in us, sets off reactions that surprise us and that may cut free memories and feelings that we had thought gone to ground long ago…
It’s a little hard not to worry when my best friend keeps on dying.
I’m the one that’s got to die when it’s time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to.
No true believer could be intolerant or a persecutor. If I were a magistrate and the law carried the death penalty against atheists, I would begin by sending to the stake whoever denounced another.
I want you here. I don’t care if it’s a hundred degrees and every blade of grass dies. Without you, none of that matters to me.
I’ve always been scared to death of pain – afraid, even, to think of it.
Family will always kill you — some bit by bit, others all at once. It is the love that does it.
And, for one– ten thousandth of a second, all of it fell away, the despair and grief and anger and pain and hunger, and the old Ben Parish rose from the dead. The eyes that impaled. The smile that slayed. In another moment, he would fade, slide back into the new Ben, the one called Zombie, and I understood something I hadn’t before: He was dead, the object of my schoolgirl desires, just as the schoolgirl who desired him was dead.
But a kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; nor can the dead ever be brought back to life.
So the will’s desire for death is not a desire for nonexistence, but a desire for peace. When someone wrongly believes that he will not exist, he desires by nature to be at peace; that is, he desire to exist in a higher degree.
Hope is the great deceiver. Hope is the piper who leads us sleepy to our slaughter.
I went down to the river,I set down on the bank.I tried to think but couldn’t,So I jumped in and sank.
Life is trouble. Only death is not. To be alive is to unfasten your belt and look for a fight.
When the dead do walk seek water’s run,for this the Dead will always shun. Swift river’s best or broadest laketo ward the dead and have and make.If water fails thee, fire’s thy friend, if neither guards it will be thy end.
The Marshal didn’t bother knocking. What he observed was not unexpected, but still shocking. The sequoia of a man, seven feet tall and 360 hard-packed pounds of him, lay with back curled forward, limbs folded in front of his body, on the living room floor, moaning, with periodic sharp intakes of breath accentuating his spiritual desolation.
Dr. Beall gave him the first shot, followed closely by the second.He said, I’ll check for a heartbeat.I said, You don’t need to. I can see it in his eyes.Dewey was gone.
We only live once. We all have an expiration date after that we will never come again. I am not saying that to make you sad. I am saying that so you can cherish each moment in your life and be grateful that you are here and you are Special
The fame of his likes circulates briskly but soon grows heavy and stale; and as for history it will limit his life story to the dash between two dates.
And in what fairy tale would John ever be any sane person’s idea of Prince Charming anyway? He was the opposite of charming. More like Prince Terrifying.
Yes, it was too late, and Sabina knew she would leave Paris, move on, and on again, because were she to die here they would cover her up with a stone, and in the mind of a woman for whom no place is home the thought of an end to all flight is unbearable.
He’s waiting for yu, young queen.’Shocked, I stared at Seoras. ‘Heath?’The Warrior’s look was wise and understanding – his voice gentle. ‘Aye, yur Heath probably does await you somewhere in the future, but it is of your Guardian I speak.
She’s realized the real problem with stories — if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death.
It never gets easier, missing you. And sometimes I wonder if it ever will.
Death doesn’t affect the living because it has not happened yet. Death doesn’t concern the dead because they have ceased to exist.
Now hollow fires burn out to black,And lights are fluttering low:Square your shoulders, lift your packAnd leave your friends and go.O never fear, lads, naught’s to dread,Look not left nor right: In all the endless road you treadThere’s nothing but the night.
I saw a great many men die afterwards, some suffering horribly, but I do not recall any death that affected me quite so much as that of this first victim in my platoon.
Through TV people turn their family living rooms into meditative dens of death and violence worship.
Survival is the celebration of choosing life over death. We know we’re going to die. We all die. But survival is saying: perhaps not today. In that sense, survivors don’t defeat death, they come to terms with it.
All primitive people are frightened of owls,’ said Harley. ‘The villagers here are scared to death of the gufo. Birds of ill omen. If they see one, they think they’ll die. But they never do. See one, I mean, of course,’ he added with a laugh.
But at my back I always hear Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
Susannah continued. If and when I go off slow dancing in the ever after, I don’t want to look like I’ve been stuck in a hospital room my whole life. I at least want to be tan.
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glassStains the white radiance of Eternity,Until Death tramples it to fragments.- Adonais
When men shake hands with time, time crushesThem like tumblers; little pieces of glass.
It was an indulgence, learning last words. Other people had chocolate; I had dying declarations.
Perhaps it’s better if I live in your heart, where the world can’t see me. If I’m dead, there will be no stain on our love.
The bustle in a houseThe morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth,–The sweeping up the heart,And putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity
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.
What is a fear of living? It’s being preeminently afraid of dying. It is not doing what you came here to do, out of timidity and spinelessness. The antidote is to take full responsibility for yourself – for the time you take up and the space you occupy. If you don’t know what you’re here to do, then just do some good.
Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)
Is there life before death? That’s chalked upIn Ballymurphy. Competence with pain,Coherent miseries, a bite and a sup,We hug our little destiny again.
Losing someone you love is harder. One minute they’re there, the next they’re gone. There were times I wished they would rise up from the dead.