Best 9776 quotes in «death quotes» category

Let us imagine a number of men in chains and all condemned to death, where some are killed each day in the sight of the others, and those who remain see their own fate in that of their fellows and wait their turn, looking at each other sorrowfully and without hope. It is an image of the condition of man.

Let us look upon a crucified Christ, the remedy of all our miseries. His cross hath procured a crown, his passion hath expiated our transgression. His death hath disarmed the law, his blood hath washed a believer's soul. This death is the destruction of our enemies, the spring of our happiness, and the eternal testimony of divine love.

Let us not doubt that God has a father's pity towards us, and that in the removal of that which is dearest to us He is still loving and kind. Death separates, but it also unites. It reunites whom it separates.

Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides.

Life and death appear more certainly ours than whatsoever else; and yet hardly can that be called ours, which comes without our knowledge, and goes without it.

Life and death are but phases of the same thing, the reverse and obverse of the same coin. Death is as necessary for man's growth as life itself.

Life death all does end and each day dies with sleep.

Life. Consider the alternative.

Life consists in the sum of the functions, by which death is resisted.

Life does not end when we die. Death is a rebirth into a spirit world of light and love, a transition from the physical to the spiritual that is no more frightening or painful than passing between rooms through an open doorway. It is a joyful homecoming to our natural home, . . .

Life is a hurdle and you'll never clear it. Death is the end of the ride and you fear it.

Life is a series of diminishments. Each cessation of an activity either from choice or some variety of infirmity is a death, a putting to final rest. Each loss, of friend or precious enemy, can be equated with the closing off of a room containing blocks of nerves, or a dynamo governing a particular sensibility or intelligence and soon after the closing off the nerves atrophy and that part of oneself, in essence, drops away. The self is lightened, is held on earth by a gram less of mass and will.

Life is forever. Death is only a temporary abridgment. It is just a state of transition where you will move from one world into another. You will move from the physical to the causal, from matter into pure energy.

Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering - and it's all over much too soon.

Life is eternal and it's worth living. What we do in this life is not futile. Death is not the end. Our practice in this life will assist us in our next life.

Life is going forth; death is returning home.

Life is growth. If we stop growing, technically and spiritually, we are as good as dead.

Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.

Life is rather a state of embryo, a preparation for life; a man is not completely born till he has passed through death.

Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.

Life means opportunity, and the thing men call death is the last wonderful, beautiful adventure.

Life lives on life. This is the sense of the symbol of the Ouroboros, the serpent biting its tail. Everything that lives lives on the death of something else. Your own body will be food for something else. Anyone who denies this, anyone who holds back, is out of order. Death is an act of giving.

Life is uncertain; death is certain.

Life levels all men. Death reveals the eminent.

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Life's too short for a funeral.

Like a bird singing in the rain, let grateful memories survive in time of sorrow.

Lift up our eyes to you? no, God, we stare and stare, upon a nearer thing that greets us here, Death, violent and near.

Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend; The World's an Inn, and Death the journey's end.

Like the dew on the mountain, like the foam on the river, like the bubble on the fountain, thou art gone, and for ever!

Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.

Live your life, do your work, then take your hat.

Love each other or die.

Loss and possession, death and life are one, There falls no shadow where there shines no sun.

Love like Death,, Levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crook Beside the scepter

Love is the greatest link that we have with those who have temporarily left us.

Love masters agony; the soul that seemed Forsaken feels her present God again And in her Father's arms Contented dies away.

Man, as long as he lives, is immortal. One minute before his death he shall be immortal. But one minute later, God wins.

Madam Life's a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: she's the tenant of the room, he's the ruffian on the stair.

Man dies of cold, not of darkness.

Manifestly, dying is nothing to a really great and brave man.

Man cannot live without some knowledge of the purpose of life. If he can find no purpose in life he creates one in the inevitability of death.

Man is the only animal that contemplates death, and also the only animal that shows any sign of doubt of its finality.

Man lives freely only by his readiness to die.

Man lives two lives, woe, were it otherwise! One is seized by death, the other one, his honor, remains.

Man should ever look to his last day, and no one should be called happy before his funeral. [Lat., Ultima semper Expectanda dies homini est, dicique beatus Ante obitum nemo et suprema funera debet.]

Man has the possibility of existence after death. But possibility is one thing and the realization of the possibility is quite a different thing.

Man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave.

Man's destructive hand spares nothing that lives; he kills to feed himself, he kills to clothe himself, he kills to adorn himself, he kills to attack, he kills to defend himself, he kills to instruct himself, he kills to amuse himself, he kills for the sake of killing.

Man only of all earthly creatures, asks, Can the dead die forever? - and the instinct that urges the question is God's answer to man, for no instinct is given in vain.