Best 9776 quotes in «death quotes» category

In Caiaphas' court-room the Prisoner was now the object of scorn and contempt, 'a worm and no man', a blot on the very name and honour of Israel, a Philistine of the Philistines, worthy only of death. Here we touch another nerve of Christ's sufferings, his rejection by his own people. 'He came to his own home, and his own people received him not' (John 1:11). He was officially disowned as a child of Abraham, he who had wept over impenitent Jerusalem. In this rejection God was rending the Saviour's heart. To be thus spurned by his own people and treated as a reprobate, was a bitter grief to bear. To be delivered to the pagans for further trial and then death added to the pain that wrenched at his heart. But the One who had come to save the world must suffer at the hands of the world.

In a world where everyone struggles to survive whatever the cost, how could one judge those who decide to die?

In calm cold midwinter, there was a starving hunter, who lost his way in forest, and had no food no shelter, One day he woke of hunger, and started walking faster, he walked for miles and miles, but nothing saw his eyes, He trembled of an anger, his hope forever died, like thirsty bowing flower, the poor hunter cried, He started walking further, then saw a wounded deer, who lied near the river, with so much pain to bear. The deer was also hunted, by hunter like this man, her eyes were getting colder, and filled with so much fear, The hunter felt so pity, of what he saw over there, his sufferings were same as, of which were of the deer, And then they died together, as reached the starving

Indeed, analyst Robert Bak calls orgasm "the perfect promise between love and death," the means by which we repatriate separation of mother and child through the momentary extinction of the self. It is true that few of us consciously climb into a lover's bed in the hope of finding our mommy between the sheets. But the sexual loss of our separateness (which may scare people so badly they cannot have orgasm) brings us pleasure, in part, because it unconsciously repeats our first connection.

In Collegium it had been the fashion, while he had been resident there, to paint death as a grey-skinned, balding Beetle man in plain robes, perhaps with a doctor's bag but more often an artificer's toolstrip and apron, like the man who came in, at the close of the day, to put out the lamps and still the workings of the machines. Among his own people, death was a swift insect, gleaming black, its wings a blur - too fast to be outrun and too agile to be avoided, the unplumbed void in which he swam was but the depth of a single facet of its darkly jewelled eyes.

In dealing with us, God always starts with our motives. What do you want for the people? What does God wants for his people? What do you want Him to do for you; that's is a starting place.

In death, when our physicality is stripped away and our essence released to join the eternal song of creation, there is no sin or offense, no judgment or worry.

In crime and enmity they lie Who sin and tell us love can die, Who say to us in slander's breath That love belongs to sin and death.

Incluso cuando morimos, solía decir Abuelita, seguimos siendo una parte de la gente que nos lleva consigo. Drew llevaba a Valerie. Era la única forma en que podía tenerla.

In daylight we pick up our tinned rations and hike off, every artery and nerve of us, into the rest of our commemorative lives.

Indeed, it may most verily be said That only death and taxes certain are.

In dying we are born to eternal life

I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance. It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed forever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard. These are the reflections of the first days; but when the lapse of time proves the reality of the evil, then the actual bitterness of grief commences. Yet from whom has not that rude hand rent away some dear connection? And why should I describe a sorrow which all have felt, and must feel? The time at length arrives when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity; and the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not banished. My mother was dead, but we had still duties which we ought to perform; we must continue our course with the rest and learn to think ourselves fortunate whilst one remains whom the spoiler has not seized.

I need to ask, are you afraid of spiders?" Nicholas blinked, suddenly caught off guard, "Yes, I'm afraid of spiders." "Were you always?" "What are you, a psychiatrist?" Pritam took a breath. He could feel Laine's eyes on him, appraising his line of questioning. "Is it possible that the trauma of losing your best friend as a child and the trauma of losing your wife as an adult and the trauma of seeing Laine's husband take his life in front of you just recently..." Pritam shrugged and raised his palms, "You see where I'm going?" Nicholas looked at Laine. She watched back. Her gray eyes missed nothing. "Sure," agreed Nicholas, standing. "And my sister's nuts, too, and we both like imagining that little white dogs are big nasty spiders because our daddy died and we never got enough cuddles." "Your father died?" asked Laine. "When?" "Who cares?" Pritam sighed. "You must see this from our point of - " "I'd love to!" snapped Nicholas. "I'd love to see it from your point of view, because mine is not that much fun! It's insane! It's insane that I see dead people, Pritam! It's insane that this," he flicked out the sardonyx necklace,"stopped me from kidnapping a little girl!" "That's what you believe," Pritam said carefully. "That's what I fucking believe!" Nicholas stabbed his finger through the air at the dead bird talisman lying slack on the coffee table.

I never fear death... for me it's only a new beginning.

I never gossip - but after all, a tongue is given one to speak with, and I'm not deaf mute. That you most certainly are not. A tongue, Henet, may sometimes be a weapon. A tongue may cause a death - may cause more than one death. I hope your tongue, Henet, has not caused a death.

I never knew her in life. She exists for me through others, in evidence of the ways her death drove them

I never said how sorry I was," I ventured, "about your Uncle Amax." Crest sniffed the ukulele fret board. "Why would you be sorry? Why would I?" "Uh... It's just, you know, an expression of courtesy... when you kill someone's relatives.

I never thought before how strange the notion of a transplant list is. The only list I've ever really given thought to were grocery lists and to-do lists, lists of homework assignments and list of clothes I wanted to buy before school started. I never thought there was such a thing as a list of names, people waiting for new faces. People waiting for someone else to die.

I never understood why when you died, you didn't just vanish, everything should just keep going on the way it was only you just wouldn't be there. I always thought I'd like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I'd like it to say 'figment'.

I never wanted a too die for house, or a too die for car. I always wanted a too die for life. If you were to die tomorrow would you feel like you did everything you wanted to? Loved everyone and meant it? Lived with honesty and integrity? Stood up for what you believed in? Did you work to live or did you live to work? Those that hurt you or upset you did you try to work it out? Did you still love them from a distance even if they hurt you so bad? If not work to change and make it right before it's too late. Remember the house, the car, the money and the material possessions you can't take with you when your gone. All you have is YOU and what YOU were about. Remember that.

I never trust anyone", Alecto told Mandy as wisps of smoke drifted from his cigarette. "Treachery is the unfortunate result of any friendships I've ever had. I don't need friends anyway, what I want is to be left alone to carry out my work... it's a dangerous world and we're just on borrowed time, all of us... even you.

I never wanted to be a martyr—even for love. I don’t want to die for love. I want to live for it.

I never heard enough damnation from your pulpit. Many mornings I had to strain to take hold of what you were saying, Reverend. I couldn't figure it out, and got dizzy listening, the way you were dodging here and there. A lot of talk about compassion for the less fortunate, I remember that. Never a healthy sign, to my way of thinking, too much fuss and feathers about the poor. They're with us always, the Lord Himself said. Wait till the next go-around, if the poor feel so sorry for themselves on this. The first shall be last. Take away damnation, in my opinion, a man might as well be an atheist. A God that can't damn a body to an eternal Hell can't lift a body up out of the grave either.

I never wish to celebrate The year of my birth, For fear lest I wake, By the clinking of glasses and noisy mirth, All those who sleep in memory's vaults.

In every person, there is a doer and a devil. With every passing days, the doer dies and a devil has to rise.

inevitably I think sometimes about my death, but those thoughts go away as quickly as they come. I tend not to dwell on them. Somebody asked me if I wanted to join a suicide society. It’s some organisation in Edinburgh that helps people to commit suicide and I believe that a lot of Parkinson’s sufferers choose that course of action. But I don’t want to. I’m too interested in what is going on around me. In any case, the fuckers didn’t even offer me a lifetime membership. I think life and death is a very simple question that is made far too complex by people who have an axe to grind. I think that when you die, you go to where you were before you were born: nowhere.

I never want to put my whole world in any one person’s hands again, Jason. If they die, I won’t die with them.’ 'So you’ll hold a little of yourself back from everybody.’ 'No,’ I said, 'I’ll hold back a piece of myself for myself. No one gets all of me, Jason, no one, except me.

In fact living is dying.

In fact, no form of death places a greater burden on society than suicide, for the act of suicide is the way a person seeks to resolve his alienation from a cooperative society.

In happy operating procedure, the breathing is like fresh air through the body. In unkind operating procedure, the fresh air is gone sad." Fresh air gone sad is a beautiful way to describe the death process.

In his den the monster keep, Giver of eternal sleep.

In His free grace, God is for man in every respect; He surrounds man from all sides. He is man's Lord who is before him, above him, after him, and thence also with him in history, the locus of man's existence. Despite man's insignificance, God is with him as his Creator who intended and made mankind to be very good. Despite man's sin, God is with him, the One who was in Jesus Christ reconciling the world, drawing man unto Himself in merciful judgment. Man's evil past is not merely crossed out because of its irrelevancy. Rather, it is in the good care of God. Despite man's life in the flesh, corrupt and ephemeral, God is with him. The victor in Christ is here and now present through His Spirit, man's strength, companion, and comfort. Despite man's death God is with him, meeting him as redeemer and perfecter at the threshold of the future to show him the totality of existence in the true light in which the eyes of God beheld it from the beginning and will behold it evermore. In what He is for man and does for man, God ushers in the history leading to the ultimate salvation of man.

In God's presence I find peace that is much deeper than any disappointment. I will grow and I understand I can't grow myself, that is why I need God and His grace.

In God’s Kingdom there are no overnight sensations or flash-in-the-pan successes. Anyone who wants to be used of God will experience hidden years in the backside of the desert. During that time the Lord is polishing, sharpening and preparing us to fit into His bow, so at the right time, like “a polished shaft” He can launch us into fruitful service. The invisible years are years of serving, studying, being faithful in another person’s ministry and doing the behind-the-scenes work. The Bible says, ‘God is not unjust; he will not forget your work’ (Hebrews 6:10 NIV 2011 Edition). Be patient; when the time is right He will bring forth the fruit He placed inside you.

In India, there are thousands of girls who kill their true loves just because of their family respect. But we still don’t value their feelings, dreams, and emotions.

In his imagination, he grabbed his dad by the throat and squeezed until an old mans face turned purple. No pleading, no begging, simply... nothing.

In life, more than in anything else, it isn’t easy to end up alive.

Iniquity shall be increased above that which now thou see, or that thou hast heard long ago.

In life we are separated by boundaries political, cultural, ethical, linguistical and psychical. But in death we are all united, for all afterlife is similarly unknown

In movies, war only looks romantic. “Tell my gal I love her…” close-up shot, and fade out. It doesn’t work as beautifully and neat in real life. Flying chunks of human flesh and screaming orphans really put that Hollywood take into perspective and there is nothing clean or sterile about any of it. When people die, it’s fucking horrible.

In Mongolia, when a dog dies, he is buried high in the hills so people cannot walk on his grave. The dog’s master whispers in the dog’s ear his wishes that the dog will return as a man in his next life. Then his tail is cut off and put beneath his head, and a piece of meat of fat is cut off and placed in his mouth to sustain his soul for its journey; before he is reincarnated, the dog’s soul is freed to travel the land, to run across the high desert plains for as long as it would like. I learned that from a program on the National Geographic Channel, so I believe it is true. Not all dogs return as men, they say; only those who are ready. I am ready.

In keeping with your policy of bringing Pollution the latest in death and violence, and in living colour, there’s going to be something entirely different… death without remediation.

Initially they waited with hope, but as each hour passed, hope slipped away like the wind, the wind that as a small boy Ethan had once tried to capture with his tiny fingers.

In life one of Midnight’s favourite movies had been It’s a Wonderful Life, a touching story where a man called George Bailey is shown how poor the world would have been if he’d never existed, but now the young ghost of Midnight Merlot was sat imagining himself not as the kind hero of his own narrative, but, - but as the anti-George.

In life, wisdom usually came with age, but death offered another world.

In my bones, I know that I am not long for this world.

Înmormântările sunt evenimente unde bogăția, puterea și statutul social se resemnează în fața sorții care ne face pe toți egali.

In my kind of falling, there’s no landing. There’s only hitting the ground. Hard. Dead, or wanting to be dead. So the whole time you’re falling, it’s the worst feeling in the world. Because you feel you have no control over it. Because you know how it ends.

In my mind, every piece had fit together, whether or not I’d had to force it. Of course it was all an overly complicated plot to cover up the murder of our beloved Ms. Klein, rather than a twist in the natural chaos of living, a simple, tragic expression of the one wholesale truth of our corporeal existence, that it one day, comically, accidentally, suddenly, horrifically, comes to an end.