Love burns. Whiskey burns. George Burns. What do all three have in common? They’re all dead to me.

Though you forget the way to the Temple,There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, but Death you shall not. You shall not deny the Stranger.

If the whole world seems like it’s against you, it helps to know that you’ve still got home. A safe place. It just takes one person—a teacher, a friend, a parent. If I didn’t have...

Even though I buried our love in a coffin, it isn’t dead. No, our love is very much alive. Or at least it was yesterday, when I went to visit the cemetery.

As I accepted my death and dissolution into God’s love, the insectoids began feeding on my heart, devouring the feelings of love and surrender. They were interested in emotion. As I was holding on to...

A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it.

I hid Mrs. Frozenwater’s body in the ice cube trays in my freezer. Better to keep her there than let her memory thaw out and evaporate. Scotch on the rocks, anyone?

The last good time always comes

…it does not matter if we are forgotten; what matters is the effect we have on those around us and those who come after us. What matters is how our own lives affect the larger,...

Most people have a list of 100 books to read before they die, or 100 places to visit. Not me. I have a list of 100 birthdays to see. No need to write them down,...

You’re mortal, and only a mortal can afford to be romantic. When we conquered death, we murdered love.

Every decent man in America ought to swoon with joy for the opportunity to crush with his heel the woolly head of this black lizard, to keep him from scuttling on his belly farther over...

I’m willing to die for my beliefs, but over the course of a lifetime and not all at once right now.

I have seem even those who have long since abjured God die in grace. . . . Atheists don’t use their drying to bargain for a better seat at the table; indeed they may not...

The dead person is not truly dead until the last person who rememebers them dies.

The other night my grandpa stopped breathing. I thought he was trying to set a world record for holding his breath, but after ten minutes of me cheering him on, he had to be boring...

These stories always take us to some far away places which we can never visit in real life.

The story of a life can be as long or as short as the teller wishes. Whether the life is tragic or enlightened, the classic gravestone inscription marking simply the dates of birth and death...

I killed a man for his shoes, and then I realized his feet were much smaller than mine. So I walked around barefoot for a week, in honor of a man who died a senseless...

. . . In all parts of our globe, fanatics have cut each other’s throats, publicly burnt each other, committed without a scruple and even as a duty, the greatest crimes, and shed torrents of...

She gave herself a hard twist and fell into a sitting position, staring at me with those maggot-filled doll’s eyes.

But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying,If I am dead, as dead I well may be,You’ll come and find the place where I am lying,And kneel and say Ave there for me,And...

It is almost startling to hear this warning of departed time sounding among the tombs, and telling the lapse of the hour, which, like a billow, has rolled us onward towards the grave.

A riverless silence made the air heavy.

Until you find a cause you can die for, you are not worthy to live.

For while directly we say that it [the length of human life] is ages long, we are reminded that it is briefer than the fall of a rose leaf to the ground.

To whom could I put this question (with any hope of an answer)? Does being able to live without someone you loved mean you loved her less than you thought…?

I hope the leaving is joyful, and I hope never to return.

We wanted more than anything else in the world to be normal, but we failed.” The 1960’s and 1970’s were very strange times, but Mandy missed it all, she missed the days when Super-8 was...

Our lives can’t be measured by our final years, of this I am sure.

If you let something scare you to death, then the worst has happened.

For a moment amongst the crowd, I saw you. I’ve since found out it’s common for people separated from someone they love to keep seeing that loved one amongst strangers; something to do with recognition...

When a seed sprouts, it’s a violent process. The skin breaks and splits in two. Something dies and something is born. Anytime you paint a strong or violent image, you may be expressing that part...

No matter how ugly the manner in which a man dies, it’s only the presence of a suffering human soul that is horrifying, once gone, what is left is only an object.

Everyone else felt the need to assure me that Mother’s death was part of God’s plan. Exactly, I wanted to shout after reading this sentiment half a dozen times— his plan is to kill us...

A glorious death would be in myfinal breath to take before I die, to hearone final time on my belovèd’s mouththe sound of her eternal sigh.

I can see death and more death, till we are black and swollen with death.

As long as they talk about you, you’re not really dead, as long as they speak your name, you continue. A legend doesn’t die, just because the man dies.

Beastly of him to die before you realized he might be fascinating.

Some people would rather that you die for their beliefs than that they re-examine those beliefs.

When reading the history of the Jewish people, of their flight from slavery to death, of their exchange of tyrants, I must confess that my sympathies are all aroused in their behalf. They were cheated,...

I see black light (his last words)

Soldiers live. He dies and not you, and you feel guilty, because you’re glad he died, and not you. Soldiers live, and wonder why.

Full fathom five thy father lies;Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:Nothing of him that doth fade,But doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong...

What is more melancholy and more profound than to see a thousand objects for the first and the last time? To travel is to be born and to die at every instant…

I never had a childhood. Not like the rest of them anyway. I had a starting point from which I have never stopped running.

Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved.

I’ve always figured it that you die each day and each day is a box, you see, all numbered and neat; but never go back and lift the lids, because you’ve died a couple of...

Every work cancels the dark. Every work is a hymn from the other side of memory to a memory that is spellbound. Beauty is death’s gift to vulgar life so that it can live in...

All death reminds us that nothing is promised, only that life was worth it.