Best 651 quotes in «dead quotes» category

Horace, like all dogs, heard dead-voices quite often, and sometimes saw their owners. The dead were all around, but living people saw them no more than they could smell most of the ten thousand aromas that surrounded them every minute of every day.

Hours of being asked:"Do you understand?" But for all of her answers, she never got around the one question I had wanted to ask. "What does it feel like?

How came she by her death? How came she there? Was she slain by accident, or had she met with violence? were the questions that pressed upon our thoughts. But we said little then and after a time left her where we found her. It mattered not to her that the bed was hard or the air cold. ("A Night In An Old Castle")

How can you kill a man who'd already been dead for years?

How could someone like me survive a plane crash? I didn't look like someone who could do that. I wasn't someone who could do that Maybe I hadn't Maybe I was dead. Maybe I was l was lying on the ground somewhere, rain falling over me, into my open eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't see anything. I didn't see me.

How could we have been afraid of her? She was only dead. It’s the living we fear.

How do you feel when you read stuff written by dead authors? A visit by a ghost?

How fortunate, then, that we serve a God who quickens the dead. Who breathes life into the lifeless. Do you not think that a God who formed man out of dust can form a new creation in you?

How quickly the dead faded into each other,

Hunter’s dead,” Taylor said without preamble. “It was these . . . these things. They came crawling up out of him and were eating him, oh God, I mean, it was like . . . I mean he was crying and Dekka prayed with him and he tried to fry his own brain just like he did with Harry only I guess it didn’t work, I guess he couldn’t do it, so Sam . . .” She swallowed. “Anyone have some water?” “What about Sam?” Astrid demanded. “He did it for him. Sam. I mean, he . . . Hunter was, you know . . . so Sam.” She pantomimed raising her hands, like Sam, like he would do when using his power. Astrid closed her eyes and crossed herself. “Rest in peace,” Edilio said and crossed himself as well. “Sam burned the boy?” Howard asked. Then, bitterly sarcastic said, “Yeah, you all pray to Jesus. Because Jesus is really providing a lot of help here. Sounds to me like Sam was the one doing what had to be done.

I alone knew what I had suffered. I alone knew what it felt like to be alive but dead.

I am a dead man, that's all... ... My Brain doesn't work properly. My Brain is diagonessed officially dead....

I am Cinna's bird, ignited, flying frantically to escape something inescapable. The feathers of flame that grow from my body. Beating my wings only fans the blaze. I consume myself, but to no end. Finally, my wings begin to falter, I lose height, and gravity pulls me into a foamy sea the color of Finnick's eyes. I float on my back, which continues to burn beneath the water, but the agony quiets to pain. When I am adrift and unable to navigate, that's when they come. The dead. The ones I loved fly as birds in the open sky above me. Soaring, weaving, calling to me to join them. I want so badly to follow them, but the seawater saturates my wings, making it impossible to lift them. The ones I hated have taken to the water, horrible scaled things that tear my salty flesh with needle teeth. Biting again and again. Dragging me beneath the surface. The small white bird tinged in pink dives down, buries her claws in my chest, and tries to keep me afloat. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" But the ones I hated are winning, and if she clings to me, she'll be lost as well. "Prim, let go!" And finally she does.

I am dead and despise anyone who isn’t

I am not worried about dying, what I am worried about is not living

I can’t believe our entire tour is being taken out, one by one, all because of some stupid virus. We’ll probably all be dead by the time the day tour starts.

I believe in one that all people are dreaming. This now, past and future is just a long dream, some people wake up by dieing, other by suicide everything is about a choice. But the people which are dead in our world, there aren't dead in the other they are still alive and watching us and they are smiling at us and they want we to make our choice. To think then to do it!

Ich bin jemand, der ich nicht bin ich gehe, aber ich weiß nicht, wohin ich fühle, aber ich weiß nicht, was ich will lieber tot sein als DAS

I am only a human.                                       I plot. I scheme. I believe my own lies.       I err. I sin. I look the other way even if something inside me dies.                             I get away with almost everything.               Why?                                                                 Because I am only a human.

I can’t look people in the eye and tell them that they’re going to die anymore.

I can't understand why dark northern soldiers and light ones are seperated into different brigades. The dead are all buried together in hasty mass graves, bones touching.

I decided to stay in bed until noon. Maybe by then half the world would be dead and it would only be half as hard to take.

I do not worship a DEAD and buried Christ at Calvary. I worship a ressurected and LIVING Christ in Heaven! Jesus Christ is alive.

I don't know what happened. Disease? War? Social collapse? Or was it just us? The Dead replacing the Living? I guess it's not so important. Once you've arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.

I don't see the point in worrying now that I a half-dead and not when I was okay.

I don't understand why did jesus give life to the dead when they have to die again?

I don't want to see no dead body. Willie ain't in there. She put her walkin' shoes on. She gone to see the Lord.

I don’t know how these things died without benefit of a bullet to the brain pan. They seemed to exist in an eternal twilight of longing.

I don't understand why did jesus give life to the dead when they had to die again?

I drag the body out into the snowdrifts, as far away from our shack as I can muster. I put her in a thicket of trees, where the green seems to still have a voice in the branches, and try not to think about the beasts that’ll soon be gathering. There’s no way of burying her; the ground is a solid rock of ice beneath us. I kneel beside her and want desperately to weep. My throat tightens and my head aches. Everything hurts inside. But I have no way of releasing it. I’m locked up and hard as stone. “I’m sorry, Mamma,” I whisper to the shell in front of me. I take her hand. It could belong to a glass doll. There’s no life there anymore. So I gather rocks, one by one, and set them over her, trying my best to protect her from the birds, the beasts, keep her safe as much as I can now. I pile the dark stones gently on her stomach, her arms, and over her face, until she becomes one with the mountain. I stand and study my work, feeling like the rocks are on me instead, then I leave the body for the forest and ice.

I felt a lunatic’s laugh welling up inside me.

I felt dead and sick inside.

If GOD can raise a dead man, then He can raise a living man's dead anything.

If he can't get to the clock, any idea how we deal with this lot?" "With great care," Donegan suggested. "How about we run off shout and they follow?" Said Gracious. "Then, just when they think they've caught us they fall into our trap." "OK," said Tanith. "And that trap would be?" "A big hole we'd dug earlier and covered with branches.' Tanith frowned. "I thought you were meant to be smart." Gracious frowned back at her. "Who told you that?" "Gracious is book smart," said Donegan. "He leaves the real world thinking to people like you and me and small dogs that he meets." "The innocent are often the wisest.

If I die today, will you remember me tomorrow? The love I'm leaving behind, will you care to borrow? From a snake-shed-skin or from the sky unknown In all living and the dead I'll dwell to groan

If I was a nobody you wouldn't be so eager to see me dead. Just like these people you know that I am devoted to the truth. That is why you want to eliminate me." - Magda Searus

If Metias joined the Patriots, he'd be a Hacker too. If he were alive.

If there were something that Mother Nature or God could do with money, She or He would have sold immortality to the rich a long time ago.

Free, I think. They're free. (is this why she joined them?) I feel so- So relieved. I pick up the pace as I near the opening, my hands gripping my rifle but I have a feeling I ain't gonna need it. (ah, Viola, I knew I could count-) Then I reach the opening and stop. Everything stops. My stomach falls right thru my feet. "They're all gone?" Davy says, coming up beside me. Then he see what I see. "What the-?" Davy says. The Spackle ain't all gone. They're still here. Every single one. All 1150 of them. Dead.

... If the dead can come back to this earth and move unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or if the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

If we don’t wake the hell up and make a stand, it’s only a matter of time before we’re all dead. This is a war we’re fighting and the dead are winning.

I may not be perfect for you or the world but guess what I'm not perfect for myself either. I'm dead to you and the world just as I'm dead to myself.-p.b

If you think that one day you gonna lose the all data, you are kind of right from point of view of dead, yeah you will lose it in your mind. Your mind doesn't come in heaven or hell, does it? From other point of view, from cyber point of view again yeah, you are right... one day everything dies.

If you want a fried fish to fly and enter your mouth, you must keep waiting till the unending time ends. Dead fish doesn't fly. If you want to eat it, your own hands must carry it.

I have a swizzle stick shaped like a little monkey,” announced Rose. “Let’s help the dead man with his problem.

I have lost you, my brother And your death has ended The spring season Of my happiness, our house is buried with you And buried the laughter that you taught me. There are no thoughts of love nor of poems In my head Since you died.

I have outlived a few of the kids that I grew up with in Knowsley Village, Liverpool, UK. Two dropped dead at eighteen years of age from heart attacks! They lived across the road from each other and played together. I wonder if it was some exposure that was common to them? Curiously, an entire family of three ladies all got breast cancer just round the corner from them, it killed my friend! A little further up the road another friend dropped dead of brain cancer in her thirties. Always seemed like far too much premature death in such a small area.

I have realised I have never seen a dead body or a real female nipple. This is what comes of living in a cul-de-sac.

I heard them tearing at it. It was the sound of mortality.

I saw you dead.