Best 651 quotes in «dead quotes» category

we met one strange summer in a regular tangle of sticky webs you had the air of angels sweet but I-- drowned with the damned spirits in lava oceans fearing your-- foreign static frequency and grey-green eyes (I swear they are even if you-- think otherwise): storms calm ones, calmer than my-- raging coals, empty and dead you speak of souls like you believe always an optimist in pessimistic skin of ivory and titanium mesh...

We're all being left out one way or the other. The survivors miss being heroes. The heroes miss being alive. The only ones not left out are the ones who never went in.

Were the happiness of the next world as closely apprehended as the felicities of this, it were a martyrdom to live; and unto such as consider none hereafter, it must be more than death to die, which makes us amazed at those audacities that durst be nothing and return into their chaos again. Certainly such spirits as could contemn death, when they expected no better being after, would have scorned to live, had they known any.

What begins at the water shall end there, and what ends there shall once more begin. Words are a gift to the dead and a warning to the living.

What does it matter what people do? At the end of the day we're all dead.

What does the body matter if the soul is dead?

Whatever she is now she's better than she was," said Bedloe. "Being dead is better than being dull, being dead is better than not being aware.

What is the measure of life But the distance travelled From womb to catacomb, Does the ever after take account?

We're all dead...Some of us are just a little further along than others.

...what an unfair advantage the dead had over the living, for there could be no rebuttal, no denial, nothing but the accusing silence of the grave.

What could you possibly hope to find in a cemetary?" The women said. "The dead tell no secrets and the living seldom come to visit them.

What I learned in this tragedy was the eternal lesson of good people going bad.

We're better than Galileo. Because he's dead.

What separated the living from one another could be as impenetrable as whatever barrier separated the living from the dead.

What virtue yet sleeps in this terra damnata and aged cinders, were petty magic to experiment. These crumbling relicks and long fired particles superannuate such expectations; bones, hairs, nails, and teeth of the dead, were the treasures of old sorcerers.

What's the point of a good job if you're dead?

When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together.

When I am gripped with despair, when I think I might stop, I speak to my dead. Tell them a story. What am I doing with this life? They hold me accountable. I let them make me bolder or more modest or louder or more moving, but I ask them to listen, and then write.

When he was dead I realized that I had hardly ever spoken to him. When he had been dead a long time I began to wish I had. It seems to be typical of life in America, where opportunities, real and fancied, are thicker than anywhere else on the globe, that the second generation has no time to talk to the first.

...when one is alone it is impossible to be dead.

When I got home, I seemed in a dream. My windows looked upon hers; I remained all the day looking at them, and all the day they were closed and dark. I forgot everything for this woman; I slept not, I eat nothing. That evening I fell into a fever, the next morning I was delirious, and the next evening I was DEAD!' 'Dead!' cried his hearers. 'Dead!' answered the narrator, with a conviction in his voice which words alone cannot give; 'dead as Fabian, the cast of whose dead face hangs from that wall!' 'Go on,' whispered the others, holding their breath. The hail still rattled against the windows, and the fire had so nearly died out, that they threw more wood on the feeble flame which penetrated the darkness of the studio and cast a faint light upon the pale face of him who told the story. ("The Dead Man's Story

When we are faced with circumstances, He gives us the Power to endure! When we are faced with loss, He grants us the Poise to hold on. When we come across failure, He installs back in us the Potential to rise up again. When we meet death, He gave us the Pleasure to be carried up into the Lovely coasts of eternity!

When you kill someone, something from that person passes to you - a sigh, a smell or a gesture. I call it "the curse of the victim." It clings to your body and seeps into your skin, going all the way into your heart, and thus continues to live within you. I carry with me the traces of all the men I have killed. I wear them around my neck like invisible necklaces, feeling their presence against my flesh, tight and heavy. In every murderer breathes the man he murdered.

When you’re persistently deleted from history, media, and any other channel to access information – or that information is distorted – it’s far worse than physically killing someone. It, instead, induces a form of psychological death. How can you truly be alive, how can you genuinely breathe, when everyone around you believes that you either don’t exist or are dead?

When you start dreaming- what’s there to boast? Life may treat you like a living ghost Brokenness haunts you until you perish Death will bring you nothing to cherish

Who can ever guess that I have a dead heart inside of me?

When I lifted up the skin, a fat kidney worm dripping with gore raised its bald, blind head and glared at me.

When the dead departed, they took away any falsehoods that they might have allowed us to believe while alive; we who are left behind have to embark on a different life, since the dead are no longer here to help us deceive ourselves.

When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray.

When you are dead you are independent, when you are alive your always dependent. It really doesn't matter are you there or there there is somebody above you, always!

When you aspire to inspire before you expire, you conspire to inspire even after you pause to respire. Keep pushing it!

When you feel like there is nothing else matter, you just feel like unable to breath because you finally realise that even the oxygen you're breathing is polluted.

When you go into the world you would not even notice when you become dead

Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?

Why did Nicky call me the Baby Killer?" Kiara sniffled. "Because she is a bitch," Leontes said. Jaeger gave him a chastising look. "She's dead." "Dying did not make her any less of a bitch," Leontes replied.

Who said death is dead? He's fully alive, traveling around the world, throwing shadows and soaking in the sun. Visiting the young and old; placing bets and dicing regrets, for the worse or a better off place.

Who underestimates is buried in the optimism of the deads. (Qui sous-estime s'enterre - Dans l'optimisme des morts.)

With characteristic lack of false modesty, John once said to me, "My looks are a rough test of people. If they don't begin to see me beautiful when they have had a chance to learn, I know they're dead inside, and dangerous.

With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living. Stripped of all earthly hope, bereft of every consolation, he was rendered as poor as mortal can possibly be on this side of the grave.

Why the Romans, Father?" I asked him one afternoon. "Because, my child, they teach us how to bear suffering in a world of injustice where all faith is dead," he answered.

Why do the living assume the dead know better than we do? Like they gained some knowledge by dying, but why wouldn't they just be the same confused people they were before they died?

With you, I am. Without you, I am not.

Witness also that when we talk about literature, we do so in the present tense. When we speak of the dead, we are not so kind. You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.

Wouldn’t it have been better to conserve your strength and rest?” Ildiko mused after a moment. “I’ll sleep long and hard when I’m dead. You defy death by celebrating life.

Words are dead, until action brings them life.

Yes, brothers and sisters, the mission of the Church is glorious-to invite all of us to come unto Christ through proclaiming the gospel, perfecting our lives, and redeeming our dead. As we come unto Christ, we bless our own lives, those of our families, and our Father in Heaven's children, both living and dead. . . . "I pray that we will be obedient to God, learn His will and do it, and, above all, that we will keep the first and great commandment-to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength" ("Come Unto Christ," April 1988 General Conference).

Yet a mysterious gate lay open within her shadow; and all my flesh was aware of black pathways and hovels and the silence one observes when the dead are near.

Y hay que ver, esos libros sobre el duelo son una mierda, todos iguales, una porquería total al cien por cien.

Would people be excited about your departure from the earth or they would wish you should come back again and again if possible?

You can always get another job. You’ll never get another life.