It’s gonna hurt, now,” said Amy. “anything dead coming back to life hurts.

Life and Death took a break,weary from their burdensome role.Nobody lived or died that day.

[…] death is only a small interruption.

Last reason for reading horror: it’s a rehearsal for death. It’s a way to get ready. People say there’s nothing sure but death and taxes. But that’s not really true. There’s really only death, you...

Somehow, grief had seemed easier to bear when the skies were dark and a cold wind kept cats and prey inside their nests.

Just being alive should make you late for everything. In case you’ve never noticed, the dead are always on time.

The combination of our mortality with our groundlessness imparts to human life its pressing and enigmatic character. We struggle to in our brief time in the midst of an impenetrable darkness. A small area is...

Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon.She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow.Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet...

When your mother is the grave and your father is a lightning bolt it tends to make you kind of horny. And death has a way of removing one’s inhibitions.

Search for the stranger inside you, forgotten even by your death.

When he died, I went about like a ragged crow telling strangers, “My father died, my father died.” My indiscretion embarrassed me, but I could not help it. Without my father on his Delhi rooftop,...

The thing about our choices is that after we have made them, they turn around and make us.

death play” of popular video games is accelerating these numbers to ever-higher levels.

Last words are always harder to remember when no one knows that someone’s about to die.

I’ll tell you what I don’t believe, Alwyn. I don’t believe there’s a pretty forest in the sky with castles and a white light and God and all his angels waiting to welcome all the...

Imagine being sentient but not alive. Seeing and even knowing, but not alive. Just looking out. Recognizing but not being alive. A person can die and still go on. Sometimes what looks out at you...

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.

Problems are mortal. Solutions live forever.

We’d stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You’d think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn’t.

You’re probably wondering what’s going to happen to you. That’s easy. The same thing is going to happen to you that has happened to every other human being who has ever lived. You’re going to...

Thine are these orbs of light and shade;Thou madest Life in man and brute;Thou madest Death; and lo, thy footIs on the skull which thou hast made.

You have to remember one life, one death–this one! To enter fully the day, the hour, the moment whether it appears as life or death, whether we catch it on the inbreath or outbreath, requires...

I entered literary life as a meteor, and I shall leave it like a thunderbolt.”[As quoted in Pol Neveux’s introduction, Guy De Maupassant: A Study]

Everything- even me, and one day even Charlotte- must come to end.

Sure, black holes can kill us, and in a variety of interesting and gruesome ways. But, all in all, we may owe our very existence to them.

There’s no way of knowing that your last good day is Your Last Good Day. At the time, it is just another good day.

My father was a doctor,’ she says, ‘a very kind man. He died in the early ’70s, relatively young.’ She taps the cigarette packet on the table. ‘Of lung cancer.”Oh.”But the thing about that is,’...

The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal – every other affliction to forget; but this wound we consider it...

As I remember his laugh, there was nothing mad about it, it was more like the laugh of someone who has been the victim of a practical joke, a farce in which he had believed...

A society that believes in nothing can offer no argument even against death. A culture that has lost its faith in life cannot comprehend why it should be endured.

The desire of death will not always lead you to death but the fear of death will.

It seems we’ve been at cross purposes, doesn’t it? But it’s no use now. As long as there was Bonnie, there was a chance that we might be happy. I liked to think that Bonnie...

Mr. Codro’s destiny is Ptolemaic; in other words, based on fiction. Ptolemaic says it all; it means above all fixed and unchanging, that is to say different from real life which is by nature changing...

I was no longer troubled when he pulled out a machete in a crowded bar, tried to pick up schoolgirls, or threatened to scalp us, then rip off our heads and scoop out our brains.

On the Death of his ChildDew Evaporates And all our world is dew…so dear, So fresh, so fleeting

God isn’t the son of Memory; He’s the son of Immediate Experience. You can’t worship a spirit in spirit, unless you do it now. Wallowing in the past may be good literature. As wisdom, it’s...

Grief, no matter how you try to cater to its wail, has a way of fading away.

You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories.

This human need for mysticism – surrender to an unknown truth, union – stands at the helm of all romantic feeling. It is, in essence, the same intimacy known in a mother’s arms; in those...

From the time we’re born until we die, we’re kept busy with artificial stuff that isn’t important.

Death, I’ve dreamed of it, I’ve desired it, but what real happiness can come from it?

A dead Christ I must do everything for; a living Christ does everything for me.

I feel no peace, I feel nothing. I think I will feel nothing forever.

It’s your call. You want to go back home, go ahead. But if I were you, I wouldn’t. Home is death.

There is, you will concede, a limit to the niceties a man is obliged to fulfill when his wife is dead and not yet cold.

Try to remember some details. For the worldis filled with people who were torn from their sleepwith no one to mend the tear,and unlike wild beasts they liveeach in his lonely hiding place and they...

Self-destruction would be a brief, almost autoerotic free-fall into a great velvet darkness

Mistake this day as being like any other, and your deaths will go as unmourned as the insects of the field.

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

Love doesn’t die with death. Love is like liquid; when it pours out, it seeps into others’ lives. Love changes form and shape. Love gets into everything. Death doesn’t conquer all; love does. Love wins...