Best 657 quotes in «life and death quotes» category

Most of our waking life is make believe. If there was a way to record every dream that crosses our minds, the true nature of humans would be laid bare

Mourn for the living, the dead have got their camphor gardens.

Mr. Edwards and the Spider" I saw the spiders marching through the air, Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day In latter August when the hay Came creaking to the barn. But where The wind is westerly, Where gnarled November makes the spiders fly Into the apparitions of the sky, They purpose nothing but their ease and die Urgently beating east to sunrise and the sea; What are we in the hands of the great God? It was in vain you set up thorn and briar In battle array against the fire And treason crackling in your blood; For the wild thorns grow tame And will do nothing to oppose the flame; Your lacerations tell the losing game You play against a sickness past your cure. How will the hands be strong? How will the heart endure? A very little thing, a little worm, Or hourglass-blazoned spider, it is said, Can kill a tiger. Will the dead Hold up his mirror and affirm To the four winds the smell And flash of his authority? It’s well If God who holds you to the pit of hell, Much as one holds a spider, will destroy, Baffle and dissipate your soul. As a small boy On Windsor Marsh, I saw the spider die When thrown into the bowels of fierce fire: There’s no long struggle, no desire To get up on its feet and fly It stretches out its feet And dies. This is the sinner’s last retreat; Yes, and no strength exerted on the heat Then sinews the abolished will, when sick And full of burning, it will whistle on a brick. But who can plumb the sinking of that soul? Josiah Hawley, picture yourself cast Into a brick-kiln where the blast Fans your quick vitals to a coal— If measured by a glass, How long would it seem burning! Let there pass A minute, ten, ten trillion; but the blaze Is infinite, eternal: this is death, To die and know it. This is the Black Widow, death.

My chest tightens to the point I fear my heart will suffocate from the pressure of it. Society's standards are the total opposite from how I was raised. The boy who I thought to be so strikingly handsome has less than a year of his life to live, my new friend only a few more months beyond that. Yet they are living these uneventful lives in which they don't think there is a reason for anything. Will I ever see my mother again, or is this how I will be forced to live the rest of my life, as well?

My dearest friend Abigail, These probably could be the last words I write to you and I may not live long enough to see your response but I truly have lived long enough to live forever in the hearts of my friends. I thought a lot about what I should write to you. I thought of giving you blessings and wishes for things of great value to happen to you in future; I thought of appreciating you for being the way you are; I thought to give sweet and lovely compliments for everything about you; I thought to write something in praise of your poems and prose; and I thought of extending my gratitude for being one of the very few sincerest friends I have ever had. But that is what all friends do and they only qualify to remain as a part of the bunch of our loosely connected memories and that's not what I can choose to be, I cannot choose to be lost somewhere in your memories. So I thought of something through which I hope you will remember me for a very long time. I decided to share some part of my story, of what led me here, the part we both have had in common. A past, which changed us and our perception of the world. A past, which shaped our future into an unknown yet exciting opportunity to revisit the lost thoughts and to break free from the libido of our lost dreams. A past, which questioned our whole past. My dear, when the moment of my past struck me, in its highest demonised form, I felt dead, like a dead-man walking in flesh without a soul, who had no reason to live any more. I no longer saw any meaning of life but then I saw no reason to die as well. I travelled to far away lands, running away from friends, family and everyone else and I confined myself to my thoughts, to my feelings and to myself. Hours, days, weeks and months passed and I waited for a moment of magic to happen, a turn of destiny, but nothing happened, nothing ever happens. I waited and I counted each moment of it, thinking about every moment of my life, the good and the bad ones. I then saw how powerful yet weak, bright yet dark, beautiful yet ugly, joyous yet grievous; is a one single moment. One moment makes the difference. Just a one moment. Such appears to be the extreme and undisputed power of a single moment. We live in a world of appearance, Abigail, where the reality lies beyond the appearances, and this is also only what appears to be such powerful when in actuality it is not. I realised that the power of the moment is not in the moment itself. The power, actually, is in us. Every single one of us has the power to make and shape our own moments. It is us who by feeling joyful, celebrate for a moment of success; and it is also us who by feeling saddened, cry and mourn over our losses. I, with all my heart and mind, now embrace this power which lies within us. I wish life offers you more time to make use of this power. Remember, we are our own griefs, my dear, we are our own happinesses and we are our own remedies. Take care! Love, Francis. Title: Letter to Abigail Scene: "Death-bed" Chapter: The Road To Awe

My fugitive years are all hasting away, And I must ere long lie as lowly as they, With a turf on my breast, and a stone at my head, Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead. 'Tis a sight to engage me, if anything can, To muse on the perishing pleasures of man; Though his life be a dream, his enjoyments I see, Have a being less durable even than he.

My wishes before I die, to fulfill my mission on earth; The writing of my life stories to inspired present and future generations.

Nature has endowed us with some measure of insanity to cope with the realities of daily life

Nature has granted man no better gift than the shortness of life. The senses grow dull, the limbs are numb, sight, bearing, gait, even the teeth and alimentary organs die before we do, and yet this period is reckoned a portion of life." - Pg. 82

Never judge a person how he died, but how he lived.

Never ever try to look for the meaning of life. If you do, everything will become tasteless. Just stay where you are and be happy. Trust me, It's better to be in the illusion rather than in reality. So why spoil all the fun

Nobody ever goes before their time.

Non è lo spettro della mia vita passata, si disse lei. È quello del futuro passato. È il fantasma della vita che ero sul punto di fare. Finché rimarrò qui, quel futuro non dovrà morire

No matter how rich or poor you are, all life will come to a sudden halt to travel into two types of destinations; Heaven and Hell.

Once born, how long a man will live matters. Once dead, how long he has lived doesn’t.

Nothing matters when you are dead, and, you are dead when nothing matters.

No waiting the beyond, no peering toward it, but longing to degrade not even death; we shall learn earthliness, and serve its ends, to feel its hands about us like a friend's.

Odjednom me strah umiranja, a istodobno sam svjestan vlastite smrtnosti. I umjesto da me to natjera da živim, ta mi spoznaja crpi svu radost iz života i, zapravo, više se ne osjećam živim.

Once the game is over,’ ” he says, “ ‘the king and the pawn go back in the same box.’ ” “In life and death we are equal.

One of the best parts of being a Guardian is that we get a chance to grow and change. We get to exist in both worlds. We know the secret of life and have the knowledge of death

One life, One love, One breath, One people, One chance to make a difference. If we are not one in LIFE we surely will be one on DEATH.

Our legacy is not found in all the 'stuff' we’ve accumulated on our life’s journey. It’s written in the memories of those whose lives we’ve touched along the way.

o There’s no way to really preserve a person when they’ve gone and that’s because whatever you write down it’s not the truth, it’s just a story. Stories are all we’re ever left with in our head or on paper: clever narratives put together from selected facts, legends, well edited tall tales with us in the starring roles.

Our fate is determined in rooms that must be easy to clean

People don’t always value life, even their own, as much as they should.

peace of mind and heart arrives when we accept what is: having been born into this strange life we must accept the wasted gamble of our days and take some satisfaction in the pleasure of leaving it all behind.

Pale Death with impartial tread beats at the poor man's cottage door and at the palaces of kings.

People have a courage to die, but don't have a courage to live.

People those enjoy life never thought about death and those thought about death never enjoy life.

Perhaps we’re back at the frontiers only of science here, and there’s nothing supernatural about it – just the emergence, through a thinning divide, of physical space shared with all that’s thought dead and lost.

Perhaps that is why we love life so much, Anjin-san. You see, we have to. Death is part of our air and see and earth.

Personally I don’t endorse the notion of mortality. It’s fine for other folk, but I disapprove of the concept for me and my loved ones. Seems unfair that we’re not allowed to vote on the matter and not one of us is excused. Who made up that rule?" - Kinsey Millhone

Per tutti e per ognuno, l'universo esiste solo perché lui, lei o loro hanno una coscienza con cui concepirlo. Viviamo, perciò, entro i confini della nostra comprensione. Eliminate la coscienza ed eliminerete la grandiosa totalità del mondo.

Por menos valor que tenha a vida quando é desperdiçada, vale, contudo, a pena defendê-la. Se assim não fosse, não custaria abandoná-la.

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

Pram wasn't told the story of her birth. But even as a very small girl, she felt deep in her chest that she was alive and dead at the same time.

Pour ma part, même s'il m'était difficile de l'admettre, je menais la vie de ceux qui choisissent obstinément de mourir, mais qui espèrent que le monde se chargera de la besogne.

Prisoner of Her Own Captivity

Science gives us the ability to pull back the skin of life and reveal the truth of things. It allows us to understand the mysteries of mountain-making and falling stars. But knowledge isn't meant to be held as a weapon in a battle to defy our fates and manipulate life over death. Evil lodges too easily in men's hearts. What will happen if they assume the power to create life?

Say not: I live today, I shall die tomorrow. Divide not reality between life and death. Say: now I live and die.

She promised him she would love him until she was physically unable to anymore and then after when all she could do was hold his photograph.

Seek, and you will find your loved one. And where you find your loved one? You will find something even greater...Yourself!

She listens to the delicate fluttering of sparrows' wings, tiny messengers. The sound reminds her of life - struggling, beating, rising, flying, and now dissolving into space.

She sees tall, sensible Eleanor sitting out on a terrace at twilight, with bats circling above her head. She sees the Pargiter family rising and falling through the decades like swimmers battling the waves.’ Summer Lies Bleeding

-Skończyłam się. Wcale nie jestem smutna. Często się temu dziwiłam, ale nie miałam racji: dlaczegóż miałabym być smutna? Kiedyś byłam zdolna do dość pięknych namiętności. Namiętnie nienawidziłam swojej matki. A ciebie znowu – mówi z wyznaniem – ciebie kochałam namiętnie. Wszystko to oczywiście skończyło się. -Skąd o tym wiesz? -Wiem. Wiem, że już nigdy nie napotkam niczego i nikogo, kto mógłby wzbudzić moją namiętność. Wiesz, żeby móc kogoś pokochać, to całe przedsięwzięcie. Trzeba mieć energię, ciekawość, zaślepienie… jest nawet taka chwila na początku, kiedy trzeba przeskoczyć nad przepaścią: kto się zastanowi, nie zrobi tego. Wiem, że już nigdy nie skoczę. Obecnie żyję w otoczeniu moich martwych namiętności. Próbuję odnaleźć tę piękną wściekłość.

She sucked up her tears and sniffled one last time. She wasn’t really ready, but she knew she had to be. She wiped her cheeks dry and summoned up all the courage she could muster. This was a matter of life and death. These strangers she was with would sooner leave her behind than risk their lives for her. She had to be tough, at least, for now.

Since your life evaporates quickly, it is wisdom to learn how to number your days. Not just to number your days but to make each passing day productive.

She spent a great deal of time staring into space, oppressed by the sense that she was waiting. But waiting for what? She did not know. Surely someone would call, someone must be needing her. Yet each day proceeded like the one before. Nothing intense, nothing desperate, ever happened. Time did not move. The home, the city, the nation, and life itself were eternal; still she had a foreboding that one day, without warning and without pity, all the dear, important things would be destroyed.

Somethings are simply better left the way they are.

Someday you won't ever be seen again, but until then, make everyday an adventure.