Best 9776 quotes in «death quotes» category

He was deader than a shrunken head at a Hackey Sack festival.

He who does not want to die should not want to live. For life is tendered to us with the proviso of death. Life is the way to this destination.

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.

He who is completely sanctified, or cleansed from all sin, and dies in this state, is fit for glory.

He who has a mistaken idea of life, will always have a mistaken idea of death.

He who is obsessed by death is made guilty by it.

He whom the gods love dies young, while he is in health, has his senses and his judgments sound.

He who pretends to look on death without fear lies. All men are afraid of dying, this is the great law of sentient beings, without which the entire human species would soon be destroyed.

He whom the gods love dies young, whilst he is full of health, perception, and judgment. [Lat., Quem dii diligunt, Adolescens moritur, dum valet, sentit, sapit.]

He who pretends to look upon death without fear, lies

He would make a lovely corpse.

His courtesy was somewhat extravagant. He would write and thank people who wrote to thank him for wedding presents and when he encountered anyone as punctilious as himself the correspondence ended only with death.

His death eclipsed the gayety of nations, and impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure.

History is replete with instances of men, who, by dying with courage and compassion on their lips converted the hearts of their violent opponents.

Hitherto man had to live with the idea of death as an individual; from now onward mankind will have to live with the idea of its death as a species.

Hollywood is where they shoot too many pictures and not enough actors.

Homicide, /n./ The slaying of one human by another. There are four kinds of homicide: felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praiseworthy, but it makes no great difference to the person slain whether he died by one kind or another - the classification is for the advantage of the lawyers.

Honey, we all got to go sometime, reason or no reason. Dying's as natural as living. The man who's too afraid to die is too afraid to live.

Hoping they bury me with ammunition, weed, and shells. Just in case.

How beautiful it is for a man to die Upon the walls of Zion! to be called Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, To put his armour off, and rest in heaven!

How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!

How anybody dresses is indicative of his self-concept. If students are dirty and ragged, it indicates they are not interested in tidying up their intellects either.

How astonishingly does the chance of leaving the world improve a sense of its natural beauties upon us. Like poor Falstaff, although I do not 'babble,' I think of green fields; I muse with the greatest affection on every flower I have know from my infancy - their shapes and colours are as new to me as if I had just created them with superhuman fancy.

How could there be any question of acquiring or possessing, when the one thing needful for a man is to become - to be at last, and to die in the fullness of his being.

How do you recover from an extraordinary loss? Take stock of the loved ones around you. Hug them, love them, and cherish them. When you appreciate the joys in your life, it makes sorrow that much easier to swallow. Every day is a new day. Hope floats, so let it rise. God is love.

How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.

How fascinating is death, the extinction of life. One moment here and the next gone. The light put out and only the empty bag of the body left.

How gladly would I meet mortality, my sentence, and be earth in sensible! How glad would lay me down, as in my mother's lap! There I should rest, and sleep secure.

How fine is the mesh of death. You can almost see through it.

How little room Do we take up in death, that, living, know No bounds!

How happily, how happily, the flowers die away! / Oh! Could we but return to earth as easily as they.

How strange this fear of death is! We are never frightened at a sunset.

How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.

How much of love lies buried in dusty graves!

How people die remains in the memory of those who live on

How sweet to die after one's enemies.

How short is human life! the very breath Which frames my words accelerates my death.

I admit that the generation which produced Stalin, Auschwitz and Hiroshima will take some beating, but the radical and universal consciousness of the death of God is still ahead of us. Perhaps we shall have to colonise the stars before it is finally borne in upon us that God is not out there.

Hypocrite: The man who murdered his parents, and then pleaded for mercy on the grounds that he was an orphan.

I agree that we should work and prolong the functions of life as far as we can, and hope that Death may find me planting my cabbages, but indifferent to him and still more to the unfinished state of my garden.

I am against religion because it teaches us to be satisfied with not understanding the world.

I am about to die, and that is the hour in which men are gifted with prophetic power.

I am dead already. Physical death will make no difference in my case. I am timeless being. I am free of desire or fear, because I do not remember the past or imagine the future. Where there are no names and shapes, how can there be desire and fear? With desirelessness comes timelessness. I am safe, because what is not, cannot touch what is. You feel unsafe, because you imagine danger. Of course, your body as such is complex and vulnerable and needs protection. But not you. Once you realize your own unassailable being, you will be at peace.

I am death, not taxes. I turn up only once.

I am dying with the help of too many physicians.

I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.

I am not so much afraid of death, as ashamed thereof, 'tis the very disgrace and ignominy of our natures.

I am not in the least surprised that your impression of death becomes more lively, in proportion as age and infirmity bring it nearer. God makes use of this rough trial to undeceive us in respect to our courage, to make us feel our weakness, and to keep us in all humility in His hands.

I am prepared to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.

I am the first male member of my family for about three generations who can have reasonable confidence in expecting that I will leave this earth with more or less the same number of fingers, hands, legs, toes and eyes as I had when I was born.