Best 741 quotes in «death and dying quotes» category

Oh hell, yeah! It is rather good to be un-dead. You my dear friend, are welcome to be otherwise instead.

oh. she heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)

O Karma, Dharma, pudding and pie O Karma, Dharma, pudding and pie, gimme a break before I die: grant me wisdom, will, & wit, purity, probity, pluck, & grit. Trustworthy, loyal, helpful, kind, gimme great abs & a steel-trap mind, and forgive, Ye Gods, some humble advice— these little blessings would suffice to beget an earthly paradise: make the bad people good— and the good people nice; and before our world goes over the brink, teach the believers how to think.

Old age is catching up with me, or am I catching up with it?

Old age is meant to slow us down just before the final destination; otherwise reaching the stop would be too abrupt." - On Old Age

old folks frey, the curb to the house the smell of illness and lost souls painted on the walls of washed off paint quirky noises; maybe its settling in its an old house, of generations Brandy gave me a key; old swine gave up the ghosts in the alley were broken; flickering lights

once ruffle-skirted vanity table where I primped at thirteen, opening drawers to a private chaos of eyeshadows lavender teal sky-blue, swarms of hair pins pony tail fasteners, stashes of powders, colonies of tiny lipsticks (p.39)

One day I wish to die, but today, I wish to live.

One day you will be the only one in the room not living.

One had heard and read a great deal about death, and even seen a little of it, and knew by heart the thousand commonplaces of religion and poetry which seemed to deaden one's senses and veil the horror. Society being immortal, could put on immortality at will. Adams being mortal, felt only the mortality. Death took features altogether new to him, in these rich and sensuous surroundings. Nature enjoyed it, played with it, the horror added to her charm, she liked the torture, and smothered her victim with caresses. Never had one seen her so winning. The hot Italian summer brooded outside, over the market-place and the picturesque peasants, and, in the singular color of the Tuscan atmosphere, the hills and vineyards of the Apennines seemed bursting with mid-summer blood. The sick-room itself glowed with the Italian joy of life; friends filled it; no harsh northern lights pierced the soft shadows; even the dying women shared the sense of the Italian summer, the soft, velvet air, the humor, the courage, the sensual fulness of Nature and man. She faced death, as women mostly do, bravely and even gaily, racked slowly to unconsciousness, but yielding only to violence, as a soldier sabred in battle. For many thousands of years, on these hills and plains, Nature had gone on sabring men and women with the same air of sensual pleasure.

One Must Choose Among Both Parties Either To Be A Wise Man That Die To Live In Righteousness And Blissfulness For Eternity Or Be A Foolish Man That Lives To Die For Vanity.

One should part from life as Ulysses parted from Nausicaa-- blessing it rather than in love with it.

Only God knows the future. When told by doctors in 2014 that cancer could cease function of his mind and body in two years or less, the author experienced a transition. Suddenly all priorities were rearranged in order of their eternal value. Many of those things that seemed so important the day before, became nothing: a grudge was dropped, a hurt forgiven, a threat dismissed, an apprehension set aside, a bucket list reduced to one or two accomplishments prior to death.

Only the dead, can speak about their world.

On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold, My mother shall grace thee with garments of gold.

Opium makes you quick-witted - perhaps only because it calms the nerves and stills the emotions. Nothing, not even death, seems so important.

O, treacherous Death! You can't be forgiven for vanquishing my creator to the dust...

Part of us did die. Literally - that tissue on your face, the part they removed. It died. And you can't recover from any kind of death without mourning it.

Our existence comes with Death. And it comes with suffering, death alone is not enough and pleasure have consequences. wicked and fucked. love comes with hurting. And having means losing.

Pain, unless it is physical, was sold to you (by your culture).

People kept giving me space, all of us hoping my grief had a half-life, but I didn't need space. I needed people to say Miles's name out loud. I needed them not to flinch when I said it. Weren't they curious about the color of his eyes? I needed them to acknowledge not just that he had died but that he had lived.

People are fragile. They die of mistakes, of overdoses, of sickness. But mostly they die of Death.

People tend to think that death is absolute, the one thing we can all be certain about, but that’s not the case. Death is complex. It’s powerful and timeless. The truth is, when it comes to death, nothing is impossible.

Perhaps we meet our heaven at the start and not the end of life.

Portuguese Quote: Ele dobra a Cabo de Boa Esperanca: “He’s rounding the Cape of Good Hope.” Ironically, it means that the person’s life is in its final phase, that he’s incapable of accomplishing anything more.

Perhaps, in a few people, I have seen what can be described as a struggle with death, and it can be distressing to behold. But for the vast majority of people death is gentle, tender.

Popularity is like a girl in class that you can't ignore. She give you eyes when no one looks then turns to her friends and laughs some more.

Prepare to evacuate soul in ten, in nine, eight. Chloe's splashing through the ankle-deep back-up of renal fluid from her failed kidneys. Death will commence in five. Five, four. Around her, a parasitic life spray paints her heart. Four, three. Three, two. Chloe climbs hand-over-hand up the curled lining of her own throat. Death to commence in three, two. Moonlight shines in through the open mout... h. Prepare for the last breath, now. Evacuate. Now. Soul clear of body. Death commences. Now.

Posthumous: It sounds like the name of a Roman gladiator, an unconquered gladiator. At least that’s what poor Posthumous would like to believe. It gives him courage.

prayer of the day in gratitude to God's grand wisdom Jan. 24, 2014 skin muscles veins osseous layers marrow all this passes life mass to ash to dust, thus, we must always trust-rest in earth’s faithful arms, hold to the night sky’s Polaris and all this within knowing God is Just always ———————— http://awordfromapoetsdesk.wordpress....

Probably everybody be nice to you if they knew you were dying," he said. "Everybody knows everybody is dying," I said. "That is why people are nice. You all die soon enough, so why not be nice to each other?

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it. And the very act of living is a tide: at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded.

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…

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

Sam didn't want to think of that. She wanted to feel carefree again, to live again, because who knows? Tomorrow might be the day she died.

Science is: Knowing that what is, has always been. Science ain't discovering anything new.

Sensei says funerals are not really for the dead. They are for those left behind. "The dead are long gone by the time a funeral is held," he told us. "Who would wait when the doors of Heaven are open? Only the living would be foolish enough to still hang around on earth.

Seperti manusia, kelak berakhir sendiri dalam maut yang sangat pribadi. Kesendirian tak pernah menakutkanmu, kau lebih takut pada ketiadaan kata berpisah.

She ran because she had no other choice. She feared what would happen if she dared to stop. There was no time to think. There was barely any time for her to breathe. On her broken ankle, she ran. With her bruised arms, she ran. With her bleeding sides, she ran because she knew today was the day she was meant to die.

She could forgive him for missing their dinner date, but she would never forgive him for dying.

She felt as though in death her father had been asked to bear the weight of that raised lid himself, and hold it up by lying there, the same way he'd lain on the hospital bed and counted the minutes and the hours to make his life go by. She stood by the coffin as she had by his bed, waiting it out with him.

Seventy years of life is nothing in front of a single day of death

She died in my arms saying, “I don’t want to die.” That is what death is like. It doesn’t matter what uniforms the soldiers are wearing. It doesn’t matter how good the weapons are. I thought if everyone could see what I saw, we could never have war anymore.

She was simple in her intentions; she embraced the challenge of seeing the thing through.

She was made mostly of coffee and empty spaces.

She wasted and grew so thin that she no longer was a little girl, but the shadow of a little girl. The flame of her life flickered so faintly that it appeared sufficient to blow at it to extinguish it. Stas understood that death did not have to wait for a third attack to take her and he expected it any day or any hour.

Small said, "But what about when we are dead and gone, will you love me then, does love go on?" …Large (replied) "Look at the stars, how they shine and glow, some of the stars died a long time ago. Still they shine in the evening skies, for you see…love like starlight never dies…

Si me convierto será porque es preferible que muera un creyente a que lo haga un ateo.

Sometimes I think if I could do all the things that I stopped doing, meet all the friends that I left due to time, money and other unavoidable circumstances. Continue all my passions at least once. Then my life would be more justified than today. Then I could be finally at peace at the time I finally leave this world.

So many fear death—spending their precious waking hours discussing it—while failing to notice that deep sleep is no different. It’s as if they don’t hear Mother Nature telling them not to worry every day.