Don’t feel bad, I’m usually about to die.

watchword” shall rally my faltering breath;For while from life’s fever my God sets me free,Jehovah Tsidkenu, my death song shall be.

Beauty and love pass, I know… Oh, there’s sadness, too. I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses-

Ah, life’s little surprises! They can make any day unforgettable… or make it your last.

We all must face death and walk with it. But we also must love and live in it.

Grant not my prayers, when they are contrary to Thy will, which at all times must be the best. Oh, hear them not;

A coward’s gun is emptied when fear pulls the trigger, and hate is the ammunition of choice.

The living are more demanding; the dead can wait.

Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.

What kind of lifehave you lived, little one, that everything seems to be a question of fair and unfair? Life and death just are. Fair has nothing to do with it.

Whilst the wolflets bayed, A grave was made, And then with the strokes of a silver spade, It was filled to make a mound. And for two cold days and three long nights, The father...

Absolutely not, why should I be afraid of something I know nothing about.” His orientation toward the unknown of death was not to fill the gap in his understanding with horror but potential.

One day I wish to die, but today, I wish to live.

I was learning that when you’re with someone who is dying, you may need to celebrate the past, live the present, and mourn the future all at the same time.

…every human being is doomed to die, which is the greatest of all failures.

So we must run back and forth between these two suns in our firmament—the presentiment of death and awareness of life—and avoid being transfixed by either of them. If we are lucky in this uncertain...

In a world where the most consequential things happen by chance, or from unfathomable causes, you don’t look to reason for help. You consort with mysteries… They have been killed in place of you –...

…all a guy can do is die once. The big difference is whether he dies clean – or dirty… (“I’m Dangerous Tonight”)

…Matt. I didn’t think they’d kill you… I’m so sorry…

How unhappy does one have to be before living seems worse than dying?

It may be said, in broad-brush terms, that the primary purpose of life is the continuation of life. A deep program for survival and reproduction underwrites the complex cycles of life, in which death is...

Death is not a reaper, like they say, nor even a friend. It is a dark, fierce water, an inundation.

No, I am not all right, I want to say. Have you been to my house? Have you seen how empty it is?

What if he could see this, his own skull, yellow and eroded? Two centuries old. Would he still speak? Would he speak, if he could see it, the grinning, aged skull? What would there be...

Death accepts no excuse,Tears do not move its heart.

Hungry for beautiful words, the fox comes rooting around in the hedge, almost too close to the fire. He reads my mind with one glance and is gone. All my poetry is now trotting around...

Life is a long agonized illness only curable by death.

How dreadful are the curses which Mohammedanism lays on its votaries! Besides the fanatical frenzy, which is as dangerous in a man as hydrophobia in a dog, there is this fearful fatalistic apathy. The effects...

The singers make much of kings who valiantly die in battle, but your life is worth more than a sword. To me at least, who gave it to you.

Death is perfectly safe. (55)

He had heard many of his customers talking about ‘repetitive strain injury’ over the years and he was sure that, if he was capable, he too would suffer this – especially with the industrial tooling...

The death of dogma is the birth of morality.

If only certain things had been preventable, his life would have unfurled in front of him as intended, like a lush Oriental carpet. No surprises, no detours. Just a thick tapestry of days and nights...

She simply didn’t have an interest in men anymore. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, she just knew how easily they broke.

Jesus didn’t die to save me from God. Jesus died to save me from myself.

No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.

Death is only tragic if you have tragically wasted your life on meaninglessness.

What science does not understand is called psychology, what psychology does not understand is called religion, what religion does not understand is called spirituality, what spirituality does not understand is called creation, what creation does...

And on it flows. I long to lie down quietly by the banks of a blue lake and die … and when I’m dead for my body to be consumed by birds and beasts, leaving...

My ashtray is full, the carton of cigarettes is empty, and I just cremated grandpa. But I never inhaled—or told him I loved him.

Enlightenment, and the death which comes before it, is the primary business of Varanasi.

So it is said, for him who understands Heavenly joy, life is the working of Heaven; death is the transformation of things. In stillness, he and the yin share a single Virtue; in motion, he...

It came to Mary now that her mother had been right, after all; Mary had been born for this. In sixteen years she’d shot along the shortest route she could find between life and death,...

Go on, glare your eyes at me, and cry and plead, and talk tome about money and what it can buy. But it can’t buy back a child once he’s dead!

I took the thin magazine from the pouch in front of me and began to thumb through it. I felt self-conscious, as if I shouldn’t be there. My mind began to wander, as I knew...

Whatever is destroyed, the act of destruction does not vary much. Beauty if vapour from the pit of death.

I want something good to die for. . . to make it beautiful to live.

The illusion started to vanish & so does my consciousness and I closed my eyes . Every thing is just peace.

Fear and hopelessness washed over her. She was looking her own mortality in the face, and it was a horrifying thing to do.

To get through the night, I sometimes imagined the sky filled with a canopy of stars. I imagined that each star contained the soul of a girl or boy who had died too young, and...