Last breath is rare, therefore expensive. However, we prefer to stay poor … (Dernier soupir est rare, donc cher. – Pourtant, on préfère rester pauvre…)

Death lasts only a moment, but we think about it every moment. (La mort ne dure qu’un instant, – Mais on y pense chaque instant)

The autumn leaf falls faster than the trees grow faster. (La feuille d’automne descend plus vite – Que les arbres ne grandissent plus vite.)

Listen to me: die after me, all right? I don’t care what else you do, where you go, how you screw up your life, just… survive. Outlive me, please.

Sorry doesn’t make anything better. It’s just a word to fill the space of a loss of words.

It was nice to kill time. But the time buries us before… (On a beau tuer le temps, – Il nous enterre avant)

There is no place so dark that light cannot lead the way.

The money opens many doors. That of the coffin, among other things. (L’argent ouvre de nombreuses portes. – Celle du cercueil, entre autres.)

May you find comfort and peace in every situation.

It reminds me that no embrace will ever feel the same again, because no one will ever be like her again, because she’s gone. She’s gone, and crying feels so useless, so stupid, but it’s all I can do.

Being smart takes patience. Being wise takes pain. Being apathetic takes practice. Being in love takes everything…away.

Thank God,my name isn’t in the list of thosewho died or werekilled yesterday!

Of all the many people we meet in a lifetime,it is strange that so many of us find ourselves in thrall to one particular person. Once that face is seen,an involuntary heartache sets in for which there is no cure. All the wonder of this world finds shape in that one person and thereafter there...

All stones are close to us. The last is behind us. (Toutes les pierres sont près de nous. – La dernière est derrière nous.)(The Bird and its Sun / L’Oiseau et son Soleil)

We knit alone our life, before seeing by it our shroud. (Nous tricotons notre vie seule, Avant d’y voir notre linceul)

You may say suicide is a loss of control and cowardly. Foolish as it may sound, I am prepared to argue.

Believe that you are someone worth saving.

On no subject are our ideas more warped and pitiable than on death. … Let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that...

This time it is real — all must die, and where could mountaineer find a more glorious death!

Consider in his spiritual martyr this being who lies with closed eyes, dislocated like the victim of a brutal accident who no longer requires care or rescue. Count the stabbing wounds of the hideous disappointment in the human imagination. Auscultate this pensive desert where alternate the rale and the silence. Feel pity for the grief...

They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies. Nor can spirits ever be divided, that love and live in the same divine principle, the root and record of their friendship. If absence be not death, neither is theirs. Death is but crossing the world, as friends...

I have never had any difficulty falling asleep. No matter what problems I have. However terrible things are, I can sleep. It’s like killing yourself and taking the easy way out. It’s waking up that I dread. Every morning, I go through the five stages of death. I wake up in denial that I have...

I was afraid, sheer afraid, and wondered at myself. You see, I’ve no more pluck than any man of my inches but I’d been about a good bit. I’d seen adventure and heard other fellows talk it over, and I knew you’re pretty sure to get out of everything with a whole skin till that...

Now when I die, I shall only be dead.

He would never be any different and now Scarlett realize the truth and accepted it without emotion – that until he died Gerald would always be waiting for Ellen, always listening for her. Her was in some dim borderline country where time was standing still and Ellen was always in the next room. The mainspring...

I like to imagine that, on the day after my last, my library and I will crumble together, so that even when I am no more I’ll still be with my books.

Fear of death is form of stasis horrors. The dead weight of time.

Do we reflect on life? Someday this life will be gone.

… we die, just as we were born, at the edge of a road not of our choosing.

Suppose after all that death does end all. Next to eternal joy, next to being forever with those we love and those who have loved us, next to that, is to be wrapt in the dreamless drapery of eternal peace. Next to eternal life is eternal sleep.Upon the shadowy shore of death the sea of...

Yer a good lad, Atticus, mowin’ me lawn and killin’ what Brits come around.

Dying is also an art and just like any other art it must be learned.

Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,And all their ministers attend on him.

When death speaks to me, it speaks only of the beauty of life.

You lose a child and you do understand each other’s grief at first, but if you get out of step with each other, it’s all over. Suddenly each of you is alone.

Imagine a soldier who believes killing another human being is wrong, kills his first human being in war when he has never killed before. Worse still, imagine this same soldier has his enemy in his sites and the enemy appears defenseless. Here, he might be allowed the luxury to have that moment with himself to...

I wish everyone would stop crying, Tom. Uncle Joe would be so angry about it.” But she’s crying herself now. “He’d be so angry at us, Tom, for crying so much when all he did was laugh.

Bo słuchajmy i zważmy u siebie,Że według bożego rozkazu:Kto za życia choć raz był w niebie,Ten po śmierci nie trafi od razu.

Satisfaction doesn’t come from needs and desires or fulfilling them, it comes from being yourself, being true.

sometimes I wish I would just disappear into thin air, leave the pain and the misery of this cold hearted world,I wonder who would miss me if anyone would even show a little sympathy to my family, probably no one I was just a little no one anyways.

But their bodies will help other plants grow.

That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it’s reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.

The life you have left is a gift. Cherish it. Enjoy it now, to the fullest. Do what matters, now.

If you love someone, you’re not supposed to want them to come back. Better a peaceful sleep in the earth than the life of a zombie–not really dead but not really alive, either.

It had struck me that the world was full of holes, holes which you could fall into, never to be seen again. I couldn’t understand the difference between disappearance and death. Both seemed the same to me, both left holes. Holes in your heart holes in your life.

A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to...

I didn’t know if his art was helping. But Moses’s pictures were like that, glorious and terrible. Glorious because they brought memory to life, terrible for the same reason. Time softens memories, sanding down the rough edges of death. But Moses’s pictures dripped with life and reminded us of our loss.

I’m going to die. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I’m going to die inside a cake.

Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible.

SOME PEOPLE SIMPLY DO NOT EXIST ANYMORE. GET USED TO IT. QUESTION MARK.