Death doesn’t end our devotion. It only makes it stronger.

I have a scar-a faint gouge in my knee from when I fell down on the sidewalk as a child. It’s always seemed stupid to me that none of the pain I’ve experienced has left...

Some people live to be seventy, sometimes eighty years old believing there is always something new just around the corner, as they say; in the end they practically have to be killed or at least...

The stranger was as white as a gallon of milk, and I felt the desire to pour his soul into my coffee. I’d drink him like the ghost of my grandpa.

The dead look so terribly dead when they’re dead.

I thought if I loved you enough I could change you. I was so stupid.

They have fixed our nutrition and arranged our life-span. More than this, and ahead of this, efforts will not be productive.

Hunger, revenge, to sleep are petty foes, But only death the jealous eyes can close

I don’t know why I told you all those things, but I did. Maybe it was because I’m a drunk, and sometimes drunks like to confess.

You cannot be buried in obscurity: you are exposed upon a grand theater to the view of the world. If your actions are upright and benevolent, be assured they will augment your power and happiness.

‘There is no justice,’ said Death. ‘Just me.’

Iam not scared of death because I don’twant to live this useless life.

He was just a small church parson when thewar broke out, and heLooked and dressed and acted like all parsonsthat we see.He wore the cleric’s broadcloth and he hookedhis vest behind.But he had a man’s...

I’m not sure. But – unless I’m struggling with the darkness within – I like to sustain the illusion that death is actually much further from me than it really is.

He wrote to his father every day. His platoon called his dad a girlfriend.

A mist rises from a nearby mound. It could be me, that mist, or simply the caretaker’s mower-dust. If the breeze blows just right, I’ll ghost your solid, entwine your hair. Promise me you won’t...

Although random mutations influenced the course of evolution, their influence was mainly by loss, alteration, and refinement… Never, however, did that one mutation make a wing, a fruit, a woody stem, or a claw appear....

I believe, said Austerlitz, they know they have lost their way, since if you do not put them out again carefully they will stay where they are, never moving, until the last bath is out...

Help me to understand, what my grief has prevented me from seeing – within.

Interestingly, one mate of mine, a proper leftie, in his heyday all Red Wedge and right-on punch-ups, was melancholy. “I thought I’d be overjoyed, but really it’s just … another one bites the dust …”...

We spent today sending men to hell. What’s more natural than to pass the night dreaming of procreating a few more to take their place?

There is uncertainty in hope, but even with its tenuous nature, it summons our strength and pulls us through fear and grief— and even death.

It’s not wise for me to extend a congratulatory handshake while your hands are busy clapping for me. I’ll wait for your applause to die down—or for my mother-in-law to die before we shake in...

Passando fra gli insorti che si scostavano con religioso rispetto, [papà Mabeuf] continuò dritto verso Enjolras che indietreggiava impietrito, gli strappò la bandiera, e senza che nessuno osasse trattenerlo né aiutarlo, quel vecchio ottuagenario col...

Every blade in the field – Every leaf in the forest – lays down its life in its season as beautifully as it was taken up.

I don’t say goodbye very easily, Anna. Not gracefully or prettily.Goodbye tears your heart out and leaves it a feast for carrion birds who happen by.

Let me ask you this: How many days do you have left, if any, in the life you promised for yourself yesterday?

…human beings have a distorted view of risk. They don’t see the whole picture. Our perceptions are twisted by stories in the media, by films, by our own personalities and experiences. So, despite the unlikely...

Monsieur Josserand died very quietly – a victim of his own honesty. He had lived a useless life, and he went off, worthy to the last, weary of all the petty things in life, done...

War was the ultimate chaos, a pounding, soul-destroying snarl, ending in blown-apart men lying unburied on the cold earth. There was nothing more cosmically chaotic than war.

There are worse ways to die than warm and drunk.

He was in Guanajuato, Mexico, he was a writer, and tonight was the Day of the Dead ceremony. He was in a little room on the second floor of a hotel, a room with wide...

Every instinct that is found in any man is in all men. The strength of the emotion may not be so overpowering, the barriers against possession not so insurmountable, the urge to accomplish the desire...

We are therefore blessed with powerful minds yet at the same time cursed, not only to die, but to know that we must.

To the loved ones of those who have been killed or injured I extend my deepest sympathy, … Their deaths must not be in vain.

Stay with me to-night; you must see me die. I have long had the taste of death on my tongue, I smell death, and who will stand by my Constanze, if you do not stay?

From across the woods, as if by common accord, birds left their trees and darted upward. I joined them, flew amount them, they did not recognize me as something apart from them, and I was...

Live for what you love, and die for what you’re unwilling to live without…

Molecules dissolve and pass away, but consciousness survives the death of the matter on which it rides.

Watching someone you love die is like driving through a fog. You know you’re headed somewhere but you can’t see your hand in front of your face; you’re so focused on steering without crashing that...

The candle glimmers but an hour. The nightLooms in its ancient hunger. Would you knowThe tragedy of human love and need?Gaze on the stars, then on a brother’s face!

The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper,Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of starsLetting in the light, peephole after peephole— A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.

Please bury me in the library With a dozen long-stemmed proses

It takes the whole of life to learn how to live, and–what will perhaps make you wonder more–it takes the whole of life to learn how to die.

Nearly everyone who is asked where they want to spend their final days says at home, surrounded by people they love and who love them. That’s the consistent finding of surveys and, in my experience...

In my kind of falling, there’s no landing. There’s only hitting the ground. Hard. Dead, or wanting to be dead. So the whole time you’re falling, it’s the worst feeling in the world. Because you...

Dr. Urbino caught the parrot around the neck with a triumphant sigh: ça y est. But he released him immediately because the ladder slipped from under his feet and for an instant he was suspended...

Life is here, death is over there. I am here, not over there.

Deep down, no one really believes they have a right to live. But this death sentence generally stays cosily tucked away, hidden beneath the difficulty of living. If that difficulty is removed from time to...

Power is only an aphrodisiac for the living dead