Best 9776 quotes in «death quotes» category

Ramadi’s sky was generously filled with stars. Celestial ornaments set against a banner of a deep blue velvet sky. It was a place where hell, death, and heaven were so clear and the closest I’ve felt to all three in my life.

Randolph Maddix, a schizophrenic who lived at a private home for the mentally ill in Brooklyn, was often left alone to suffer seizures, his body crumpling to the floor of his squalid room. The home, Seaport Manor, is responsible for 325 starkly ill people, yet many of its workers could barely qualify for fast-food jobs. So it was no surprise that Mr. Maddix, 51, was dead for more than 12 hours before an aide finally checked on him. His back, curled and stiff with rigor mortis, had to be broken to fit him into a body bag.” THE NEW YORK TIMES April 28, 2002

Reader one moment stop and think, That I am in eternity and you are on the brink.

Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.

Read to go?" I remain seated. "Getting up means leaving," I say. "Yeah," Rufus says. "LEaving means ding," I say. "Nah. LEaving means living before you die. Let's bounce.

Ready yourselves!' Mullone heard himself say, which was strange, he thought, for he knew his men were prepared. A great cry came from beyond the walls that were punctuated by musket blasts and Mullone readied himself for the guns to leap into action. Mullone felt a tremor. The ground shook and then the first rebels poured through the gates like an oncoming tide. Mullone saw the leading man; both hands gripping a green banner, face contorted with zeal. The flag had a white cross in the centre of the green field and the initials JF below it. John Fitzstephen. Then, there were more men behind him, tens, then scores. And then time seemed to slow. The guns erupted barely twenty feet from them. Later on, Mullone would remember the great streaks of flame leap from the muzzles to lick the air and all of the charging rebels were shredded and torn apart in one terrible instant. Balls ricocheted on stone and great chunks were gouged out by the bullets. Blood sprayed on the walls as far back as the arched gateway, limbs were shorn off, and Mullone watched in horror as a bloodied head tumbled down the sloped street towards the barricade. 'Jesus sweet suffering Christ!' Cahill gawped at the carnage as the echo of the big guns resonated like a giant's beating heart. Trooper O'Shea bent to one side and vomited at the sight of the twitching, bleeding and unrecognisable lumps that had once been men. A man staggered with both arms missing. Another crawled back to the gate with a shattered leg spurting blood. The stench of burnt flesh and the iron tang of blood hung ripe and nauseating in the oppressive air. One of the low wooden cabins by the wall was on fire. A blast of musketry outside the walls rattled against the stonework and a redcoat toppled backwards onto the cabin's roof as the flames fanned over the wood. 'Here they come again! Ready your firelocks! Do not waste a shot!' Johnson shouted in a steady voice as the gateway became thick with more rebels. He took a deep breath. 'God forgive us,' Corporal Brennan said. 'Liberty or death!' A rebel, armed with a blood-stained pitchfork, shouted over-and-over.

Real faith looks beneath the surface. Real faith knows that faith works sometimes in dark places. Real faith knows that sometimes in order to see a change, you will have to steer through your situation to really see it.

Really, existentialism is a plural term. It just doesn't have an "s" on the end

Recalling this now, I can tell only the husk of the story--a story known inwardly only by those who have experienced such a loss, which we'd wish for no one else to suffer. Those who have not often say, "I can't imagine how you felt, what that was like." I can hardly imagine it either, even having lived through it. Recently, when someone said that, I found myself answering, "Like being burned alive.

Rebellion leads to ruin.

Rebirth always follows death.

Refusal to engage in spiritual warfare does not exempt you from being among the next casualties of war

RED Here’s the red The red of love The fire that burns Within my soul The reddest red I’ve ever known The flame untouched Ignited coal Here’s the red The red of pain That stinging pain No one must know The deepest red I’ve ever felt The emptiness The mourning soul Here’s the red The red I knew That exalted fire That once ignited you The reddest red I ever knew… The deepest red I ever knew…

Regret is the sound of the ghosts of our own making. I will live with mine until I die.

regret is mostly caused by not having done anything.

Rejoice, for bad things are about to happen.

Relax. They're not going to kill us. They're going to TRY and kill us. And that is a very different thing.

Religion has taught me there is only one teacher. Life has shown me there are many.

Remembering may be a celebration or it may be a dagger in the heart, but it is better, far better, than forgetting.

Remember meditation is an active, deep remembrance, and that is discernment. Wherever you go, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, remember to utilize discernment so that you can hear and sense and feel the vibration of love rather than the vibration of illusion.

Remember death. Even for those who wield great power, life is brief. There is only one way to triumph over death, and that is by making our lives masterpieces. We must seize every opportunity to show kindness and to love fully.

Remember: knowing originates on the inside, knowledge on the outside. Certain facts and concepts may change, come into being, disappear, or be replaced, but what it is to be a human being will never really be all that different. Every person to ever live, now and the whole of history, has had a rich and elaborate world of inner experience, but it has mainly been flesh upon the same skeleton. We are all born, come to terms with the world, and then come to terms with coming to terms with the world, as we go through the stages of puberty, old age, death and making sense of it all in between. We all live the same process in different ways. Some live it longer than others and some cover more ground. But that's it.

Relinquishing control to another person is like death: it’s only scary until it finally happens.

Remember. Observe, assess and act. No hesitation. No remorse.

Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat in this distracted globe. Remember thee?

Remember, Pia," he whispers. "Perfect is as perfect does.

Remember, you are as dispensable as the most indispensable king of kings, the mighty lord of silly worldly men.

Remind the people you care about how much you love them today. It will only take a moment, and it doesn't have to be an elaborate speech. It's a simple gesture but I promise, those words, can heal. Don't wait until tomorrow, it may never get here.

Reminding me how fragile this life is and how easily it can be lost. Compelling me to live and to live well, while I still can. Because sooner or later, we must all face eternity.

Remove this quote from your collection “Since I’ve decided to go into battle, I’m not thinking of coming back. Vast and hazy plains, the traveling path is far. Carrying my sword and preparing my crossbow, even if I get dismembered, I don’t have any regrets. Even at time of death and when you’re about to become a spirit, you are the hero within the ghosts, such a resolute soul...

Remember: You are no one. You have no name. You do not speak, you do not look at them, you do not volunteer for anything. You work, bot not so hard they notice you. Gizela. Zytka. Your parents, Oskar and Mina. They are dead and gone now, Yanek, and we would grieve for them if we could. But we have only one purpose now: survive. Survive at all costs, Yanek. We cannot let these monsters tear us from the pages of the world.

Remembrance of things past is just for the rich. For the poor it only marks the faint traces on the path to death.

REQUIEM Under the wide and starry sky Dig the grave and let me lie: Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he long'd to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.

Respect is reverence out of love, Fear is reverence out of hate.Choose Wisely

Reverend was right about one thing: people always want a reason for the bad things in life. Sometimes there ain't one.

Respect your grief. For, if there is a wall within you that needs mending. It will mend it. --- Grief

Revenge provokes revenge which provokes revenge which provokes revenge - forming an unbroken chain of death and destruction linking nations of today to barbarous tribes of thousands and thousands of years ago.

Rest in Peace?’ Why that phrase? That’s the most ridiculous phrase I’ve ever heard! You die, and they say ‘Rest in Peace!’ …Why would one need to ‘rest’ when they’re dead?! I spent thousands of years of world history resting. While Agamemnon was leading his ships to Troy, I was resting. While Ovid was seducing women at the chariot races, I was resting. While Jeanne d’Arc was hallucinating, I was resting. I wait until airplanes are scuttling across the sky to burst out onto the scene, and I’m only going to be here for a short while, so when I die, I certainly won’t need to rest again! Not while more adventures of the same kind are going on.

Retirement homes are never lovely places. The food is usually overcooked, the carpet stained from overactive bowels, and the smell of hand lotion, cheap perfume, and urine never really leaves the place, no matter how many times the beds are washed and the walls are scrubbed. They are a place of holding, a purgatory to the not-yet-dead.

Revolutions seldom justify their enormous cost in human life.

Revision and prediction seem like wastes of time. As much as I'd like to have a handle on the past and future, the moment I live in is the one I have. Here is how the moment instructs me: clouds float in front of the moon's face, lights flicker in the carved heads of pumpkins, leaves rise in the wind at random, saints go nameless, love comforts, souls sing beyond the reach of bodies.

Return as ever. Your eyes are my only conveyance to death's other face.

Revenge requires taking oneself apart from the noise of men and of things, even from what resembles them; only the twisted soul remains. The consequences of my actions can not be remedied nor can they be wiped away. Eight deaths I must atone for in the afterlife. I’m cursed in both worlds. But one more job and my obligation ends. One more kill and I am free. – Akira Sato, Twisted Threads

Risks? I have lived with the prospect of assassination for years. What risks? All men die, rich and poor alike. But if I am to die, then let it be while I fight, not like some bullock in a pen waiting for the ax to fall.

Rings and magazines; keychains and umbrellas; hats and glasses; rattles and radios. They looked like different things, but Ralph thought they were really all the same thing: the faint, sorrowing voices of people who had found themselves written out of the script in the middle of the second act while they were still learning their lines for the third, people who had been unceremoniously hauled off before their work was done or their obligations fulfilled, people whose only crime had been to be born in the Random... and to have caught the eye of the madman with the rusty scalpel.

RIP, to those that are no longer here in Body, for they give our minds a lesson in eternity...

Rome fell silently to ruins. A New city rose in its place, and it was too erased by emptiness. Like phantom Giants, cities, kingdoms, and countries swiftly fell and disappeared into emptiness-- swallowed up in the black maw of the Infinite

Saadi’s dictum, in the Bostan: ‘The Path is not in the rosary, the prayer-mat and the robe

Sabato ilianzishwa na Mungu siku ya saba ya uumbaji wake. Siku ya Sabato ni siku takatifu, iliyoko katika Amri Kumi za Mungu, ambayo hatuna budi kuitunza na kuiheshimu. Sheria ya Siku ya Sabato haikufa baada ya kifo cha Yesu Kristo msalabani kama Wakolosai wanavyodai. Wakolosai walifuata falsafa za kipagani, na walizileta falsafa hizo ndani ya mwili wa Kristo ambalo ni kanisa. ‘Usiiamini’ Wakolosai 2:17. Iamini Wakolosai 2:20-23, ambapo Paulo anafundisha Mataifa jinsi ya kuitunza Sabato, na 1 Wakorintho 12:27 ambayo inatoa maana halisi ya Wakolosai 2:17. ‘Mwili wako ni wa Kristo’ ni tofauti na ‘mwili wa Kristo’ na ni tofauti na kanisa. Ukiamini kama mwili wako ni wa Kristo na ni kanisa, utaitunza Sabato.

Sabía ya que sólo las viejas palabras servían: muerte, congoja, tristeza, pesar, sufrimiento. Nada moderadamente evasivo o medicinal. La aflicción es un estado humano, no médico, y aunque haya píldoras que nos ayuden a olvidarla - y todo lo demás -, no hay pastillas que la curen. Los afligidos no están deprimidos, sino solo debidamente, adecuada, matemáticamente tristes.