Best 1629 quotes in «suicide quotes» category

dead people commit suicide!!

Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do not blame the drugs.

Death cures all.

Death frees us from the sickness of modern life.

Death is a thing of beauty, but equally a destroyer of beauty. That is the paradox that we are left with.

Death” is never an end, but a To Be Continued...

Death is easy. To live is the most painful thing I could imagine and I'm weak and no longer willing to fight.

Death is not the end! The exit for the world of mortals is the entrance to the world of immortals!

De nouveau il entendit la porte s'ouvrir, et, calme, du fond de la chambre, il vit venir à lui sa dernière heure.

Depression, is like trying to find a light switch in pitch darkness. Defeating it takes much assistance and resource. First, it's letting in loved ones that are reaching out, when light will begin to shine.

Despair, grief, and depression are not things that people can simply stop, any more than someone can will an end to a toothache or the pain of withdrawal. Acutely suicidal people have lost all sense of having power over their pain. To tell them to magically acquire will power is like asking a crippled person to race against a champion. It does not help them do the thing in question; it just makes them feel worse.

Did you see her again in France?" I asked him.” “No. When I got to France, she was already dead. She committed suicide ...” “Why?” “She often told me she was frightened of getting old...

Die menschliche Natur hat ihre Grenzen: sie kann Freude, Leid, Schmerzen bis auf einen gewissen Grad ertragen und geht zugrunde, sobald der überstiegen ist. Hier ist also nicht die Frage, ob einer schwach oder stark ist, sondern ob er das Maß seines Leidens ausdauern kann, es mag nun moralisch oder körperlich sein. Und ich finde es ebenso wunderbar zu sagen, der Mensch ist feige, der sich das Leben nimmt, als es ungehorig wäre, den einen Feigen zu nennen, der an einem bösartigen Fieber stirbt.

Di solito quello che una persona intende per "felicità" non è nient'altro che la relativa sicurezza che anche il giorno dopo non si ammazzerà.

Discussions about the ethics of suicide are immediately biased by the verb that customarily attaches to it in English. One "commits" suicide. Because this presupposes the wrongfulness of the suicide, I avoid that verb, opting instead for "carry out" suicide. This is evaluatively neutral, avoiding both the usual bias against suicide and the unusual bias in favor of it that the verb "achieve" would effect. "Carry out" is preferable to "practice", which implies something ongoing. Finally, "carry out" also implies a suicide that is completed rather than merely attempted.

Does any man have the right to dispose of his own life? This is the ultimate question of moral entitlement, and relevant only if right is relevant in this context, and it is not. A suicidal man cannot be concerned - and nor should he be - with questions of moral entitlement. (And how absurd.) His one concern should be whether self-execution will most expediently relieve his suffering.

Do human beings have an infinite amount of energy with which to resist death? It is kinder and more accurate to say that they fought until they had no more fight left in them.

Done because we are too many.

Don't be afraid! Hold my hand and let's jump off that cliff; together.

Don't commit suicide your thoughts with jealousy and hatred.

Do you see what this pure feeling ‘love’ can do to people? Just now, I know you wanted to take my head off. But if love is so pure, why do so many die in the name of love? It’s a poison. It enters your body and slowly makes you do impulsive things you wouldn’t normally do. People kill themselves because they want to be with their love. People kill others because they want to be with their love. And people kill their love because they want to be with their love. All in the name of love, but in the end, someone dies.

Don’t stop breathing just because night has fallen! Don't stop breathing just because you are sleeping

Doomed and knew it, accepted the doom without either seeking or fleeing it. Loved her brother despite him, loved not only him but loved in him that bitter prophet and inflexible corruptless judge of what he considered the family's honor and its doom, as he thought he loved but really hated in her what he considered the frail doomed vessel of its pride and the foul instrument of its disgrace, not only this, she loved him not only in spite of but because of the fact that he himself was incapable of love, accepting the fact that he must value above all not her but the virginity of which she was custodian and on which she placed no value whatever: the frail physical stricture which to her was no more than a hangnail would have been. Knew the brother loved death best of all and was not jealous, would (and perhaps in the calculation and deliberation of her marriage did) have handed him the hypothetical hemlock. Was two months pregnant with another man's child which regardless of what its sex would be she had already named Quentin after the brother whom they both (she and her brother) knew was already the same as dead...

Do you have an idea of what your parents are going through? Set your world right. Parents have no idea of what you are going through.

Don’t kill yourself just because you think and feel you are empty. God needs empty vessels to fill!

Do you believe in other universes? Do you think there's another dimension where we're happy?

During these first days, when, in the disarray of mind and senses which was the consequence of the iniquitous sentence passed on me, I had resolved to kill myself, my dear wife, with her undaunted devotion and courage, made me realize that it is because I am innocent that I have not the right to abandon her or wilfully to desert my post.

During those times, they'd stand there watching me watching them. I'd pray, please. Put a pillow to my face. Clench a hand around my throat. Stab me. Shoot me. Put me out of everyone's misery. Why did you give birth to such a loser? Why didn't you admit I was hopeless and fat and stop trying to make me fit in? This world wasn't meant for me. I was born too soon or too late. Too defective. I wish I could tell my parents, "If you want to help me, help me die." I wonder, Are they required to fill out a 24-hour suicide watch form? Is the Defect at home? Check. Is It alive? Check. Why did they bother with the constructive surgery on my throat anyway? Waste of money. They threw away or hid from me everything with sharp edges or breakables. Picture frames. Pottery. Did they think they could suicide-proof this place? I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person

Drowning, Drowning on the land, Drowning, It doesn't end.

Due to these influences and many others, iGen is distinct from every previous generation in how its members spend their time, how they behave, and their attitudes toward religion, sexuality, and politics. They socialize in completely new ways, reject once sacred social taboos, and want different things from their lives and careers. They are obsessed with safety and fearful of their economic futures, and they have no patience for inequality based on gender, race, or sexual orientation. They are a the forefront of the worst mental health crisis ind decades, with rates of teen depression and suicide skyrocketing since 2011.

Dying took commitment. It was easier to go on living incompetently.

Each time a breeze starts, I feel the air all the way through me.

Embrace the pain

Él no se mató, no. Murió como..., como todo el mundo un día muere.

Eleanor had never thought about killing herself – ever – but she thought a lot about stopping.

... è un dolore che non si può reggere. E se non se ne muore, si procederà per sempre dentro i contorni di una cosa diversa, in cui sarà impossibile trovare qualsiasi forma di pace.

Enlightenment is the Goal - Love is the Game - Taking steps are the rules! - Allan Rufus

E qui bisogna menzionare anche quanto scritto da Walter Rathenau nelle sue Briefe an eine Liebende: “Le ho detto ciò che penso della morte volontaria, e le dirò ciò su cui non mi sono mai pronunciato: ma poi non voglio più né parlarne né sentirne parlare. […] Ritengo questa fine un'ingiustizia metafisica, un'ingiustizia nei confronti dello spirito. Una mancanza di fiducia nella Bontà eterna, una rivolta contro l'intimo dovere di obbedire alla legge universale. Chi si uccide, uccide e non solo se stesso, ma anche un altro essere. Perché l'uomo non è un'isola. Questa morte, ne sono profondamente convinto, non è una liberazione come quella naturale e incolpevole. Ogni violenza nel mondo ha delle conseguenze, come ogni azione. Esistiamo per prendere su di noi un po' del dolore del mondo offrendo il nostro petto, non per moltiplicarlo facendo a nostra volta violenza. So che lei soffre e io soffro con Lei. Sia indulgente con questo dolore, ed esso sarà indulgente con lei. I desideri e la collera lo accrescono; con la dolcezza esso si addormenta come un bambino. Lei è cosi ricca di amore, lo rivolga tutto agli esseri umani, ai bambini, alle cose e alle sue sofferenze. Non si chiuda nella solitudine, non voglia essere sola. Superi l'ostacolo, lo guardi negli occhi: non è nulla”.

Era linistitor sa stiu ca seara nu voi mai trai.

Even a strong man had no way left him to fight the prison machine, except perhaps suicide. But is suicide really resistance? Isn't it actually submission?

Even if we accept the view that biochemical imbalances may contribute to depression and suicide, it is a mistake to assume that the biochemical aspect of the problem is entirely within the victim. It is also partly within the physiological makeup of the people around the suicide.

Even the suicide desires his own good: he wrongly imagines that he would be better off dead. The moral problem is not that we love ourselves but that we love ourselves the wrong way.

En su lugar, una víbora ya se habría suicidado.

Even in my blackest depressions, I never regretted having been born. It is true that I had wanted to die, but that is peculiarly different from regretting having been born.

Even suicidal people can smile.

Every bad dream / imagination is responsible for the suicide of a person!

Every man has a right to kill himself.

Every day I would run to the library to get new books. Reading was a passion: I wanted to understand life. I read Dostoevsky and Brehm, Jules Verne and Turgenev, Dickens and the Zhivopisnoye Obozreniye; and the more I read, th emore I doubted everything. Lies surrounded me on all sides; one moment I wanted to run off to the Indian jungle, the next to throw a bomb at the governor-general's house on Tverskaya, the next to hang myself.

Every gesture and every look he gives me takes me by surprise and causes my heart to stutter.

Every November of my boyhood, we put on red poppies and attended highly patriotic services in remembrance of those who had 'given' their lives. But on what assurance did we know that these gifts had really been made? Only the survivors—the living—could attest to it. In order to know that a person had truly laid down his life for his friends, or comrades, one would have to hear it from his own lips, or at least have heard it promised in advance. And that presented another difficulty. Many brave and now dead soldiers had nonetheless been conscripts. The known martyrs—those who actually, voluntarily sought death and rejoiced in the fact—had been the kamikaze pilots, immolating themselves to propitiate a 'divine' emperor who looked (as Orwell once phrased it) like a monkey on a stick. Their Christian predecessors had endured torture and death (as well as inflicted it) in order to set up a theocracy. Their modern equivalents would be the suicide murderers, who mostly have the same aim in mind. About people who set out to lose their lives, then, there seems to hang an air of fanaticism: a gigantic sense of self-importance unattractively fused with a masochistic tendency to self-abnegation. Not wholesome. The better and more realistic test would therefore seem to be: In what cause, or on what principle, would you risk your life?