There’s no better way for a woman to punish a man than to make him sleep away from her.

The kind of death you should mourn over is the one that happen when you abort your potentials prematurely! Life without purpose is a tragedy!

His eyes were like two wafers of slate, grey and lifeless.

Am I afraid to die? I am every time I let myself be seduced by the noisy voices of my world telling me that my “little life” is all I have and advising me to...

But the christian story of God the Father putting his son to death, or employing people to do it, (for that is the plain language of the story,) cannot be told by a parent to...

Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.)

Bullying is an attack upon the runts of the litter – the weak of the species, and it is predicated on a lack of bond with the parents. If a child has a secure bond...

Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone—Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then...

In some ways it does, but it’s a bit like running a long race with a rock in your shoe. You get used to it, but it always hurts a little.

For Christmas I got new socks. I peeled them off a dead body.

This may not be much, but it is something. Tomorrow we die; but at least we danced in silver shoes.

Take The Walk is not about individuals becoming great in order to impact the world, it is about discovering the greatness of individuals as they use what they already have to touch the lives of...

If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.

There is no way to deter old age from its grim duty, but a life of accomplishments makes up in quality for what it cannot add in quantity.

I will stay and Michael can go.” Her voice did not waiver as she pronounced her own death sentence. No matter what happened to her, she knew she couldn’t let him die.

Gates got up, but not fast or jerkily, with the same slowness that had always characterized him. He wiped the sweat off his palms by running them lightly down his sides. As though he were...

Would that the dead were not dead! But there is grass that must be eaten, pellets that must be chewed, hraka that must be passed, holes that must be dug, sleep that must be slept.

If you had to sacrifice three people to save six people, would you do it? I would—if the three were politicians and the six were teachers, inventors, artists, or anybody but lawyers, lobbyists, or central...

I take this continent with me into the grave.

My head is in another dimension. My feet are talking to their soles. My nose is detecting a hint of sweaty, overpumped poon. There’s a spider corpse perpetually hanging on the wall next to my...

The body tries to stop the mind from killing itself, no matter the cost. It is only the lack of strength, the fatigue that lets the jumpers fall at last.

Some years later, long after he and Megadeth parted company, Jay Jones was stabbed to death with a butter knife during-rumor has it-a fight over a bolonga sandwich. That’s not funny, of course. But, if...

We’re all suicides. The tragedy is every day that we don’t die.

…to return to their ‘native soil,’ as they say, to the bosom, so to speak, of their mother earth, like frightened children, yearning to fall asleep on the withered bosom of their decrepit mother, and...

Only if we live consciously, we can die consciously.

So they will not love, for love is the bane of honour, the death of duty.

Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

I have a spreadsheet of all the women I’d like to spread and sheet. Your mom is on my list. So is your grandma, may she rest in peace.

You know what I was thinking about on my way home? How different my life would be if you’d made that gash a little deeper. Or how different yours would be if I’d vaulted myself...

Was there any meaning to life or to war, that two men should sit together and jump within seconds of each other and yet never meet on the ground below?

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions...

The flesh surrenders itself. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted...

When you tire of living, change itself seems evil, does it not? for then any change at all disturbs the deathlike peace of the life-weary.

I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles threaded together by wires. I counted one, two, three… nineteen telephone poles, and then the wires dangled into...

Apart from such chaotic classics as these, my own taste in novel reading is one which I am prepared in a rather especial manner, not only to declare, but to defend. My taste is for...

Delaying death is one of my favorite hobbies

We are born from a quiet sleep, and we die to a calm awakening

Duerme, vuela, reposa: ¡También se muere el mar!

I offer you your life, friend, and recommend you take it.

I see that I’ve become a really bad correspondent. It’s not that I don’t think of you. You come into my thoughts often. But when you do it appears to me that I owe you...

That’s a demon for you. Wants me dead but wants to be sure that he is the one who does me in.

The human animal is a beast that dies and if he’s got money he buys and buys and buys and I think the reason he buys everything he can buy is that in the back...

Shema Israel Adonai Ehohenu Adonai Echad.

The coming years will prove increasingly cynical and cruel. People will definitely not slip into oblivion while hugging each other. The final stages in the life of humanity will be marked by the monstrous war...

So we live; a spirit that broods and hovers over the continual death of time, the lost meaning, the unrecaptured moment, the unremembered face, until the final chop that ends all our moments and plunges...

All names disappear. Children should be taught that in elementary school. But we’re afraid to teach them.

Life is a spark between two identical voids, the darkness before birth and the one after death.

It was 911 calling me. If you can believe it. Them calling me.

I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to be the only one to live, either. When I was sitting alone last night, I kind of figured maybe that’s how Jesus felt.

Grief is like a drunken house guest, always coming back for one more goodbye hug.