Without death Death is dead

Surgeons are a singular brotherhood, Adam. To us, people aren’t sacred beings crafted in the Almighty’s image, no, people are joints of meat; diseased, leathery meat, yes, but meat ready for the skewer & the...

Fear not the phantom of death, My Countrymen, for his greatnessAnd mercy will refuse to approachYour smallness; and dread not the Dagger, for it will decline to beLodged in your shallow hearts.

It is love, not reason, that is stronger than death.

[Death] is a safety-device because, once Man has fallen, natural immortality would be the one utterly hopeless destiny for him.

Saving YouThe darkness takes him over, the sickness pulls him in; his eyes—a blown out candle, I wish to go with him.Sometimes I see a flicker— a light that shone from them; I hold him...

A man without trust might as well be dead.

Andy had been a good friend, and a good human being. Someone who was loyal, and upbeat, and funny. You think if you’re not in touch with someone, everything is probably okay with them. Life...

She collapsed at the bottom of the trail, at the edge of the ghost town. Dekka sat on Edilio and pressed down on the wound. The force of the blood was weaker now. She could...

Do you know how wizards like to be buried? Yes! Well, how? Granny Weatherwax paused at the bottom of the stairs. Reluctantly.

I wasn’t writing home. I wasn’t writing a death letter, either. I was writing a death journal, a piece of fiction meant for my family and my fiancee, Sara.

… was the great and general renunciation which old age makes in preparation for death, the chrysalis stage of life, which may be observed wherever life has been unduly prolonged; even in old lovers who...

The most detestable wickedness, the most horrid cruelties, and the greatest miseries, that have afflicted the human race have had their origin in this thing called revelation, or revealed religion. It has been the most...

Death comes to me again, a girlin a cotton slip, barefoot, giggling.It’s not so terrible she tells me,not like you think, all darknessand silence. There are windchimesand the smell of lemons, some daysit rains, but...

To die trying would be better than to die without purpose.

Azel was an aficionado in killing and in chocolate cake.

Suffering is part of life,’ she said. ‘All the parts of life are jumbled up together; you can’t separate out just the one thing.’ She parred his hand again, kindly. ‘I could let you kill...

When you choose to light, I weep, when you choose to darken, I weep

Death is my exit strategy. I’ll be doing significant customer service only as long as I live.

Things change after you die, though, I guess because dying is the loneliest thing you can do.

Life cannot be just a linear line to death.

What I must do is die now. I must accept the justice of death and the injustice of life. I have lived a good life – longer than many, better than most. Tony died when...

I say the same thing about the death of James Wait. “Oh, well — he wasn’t going to write the Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony anyway.

Ich werde stehen und warten.Ich werde müde werden.Ich werde nicht einschlafen.Ich werde sterben.

But she wasn’t around, and that’s the thing when your parents die, you feel like instead of going in to every fight with backup, you are going into every fight alone.

The saddest thing about death, whether it’s our own or someone we care for, is when the world doesn’t stop when we do.

Death is alive, they whispered. Death lives inside life, as bones dance within the body. Yesterday is within today. Yesterday never dies.

Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness – to glory?

They sat quietly together for a few minutes, Joe holding Fiona’s hand, Fiona sniffling. No flowery words, no platitudes passed between them. Joe would have done anything to ease her suffering, but he knew nothing...

But you’re dead,’ said Harry.’Oh, yes,’ said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.’Then… am I dead too?”Ah,’ said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. ‘That is the question, isn’t it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not.

…why can’t I stop all the moving and look out over the vast arrangements and find by the contours and colors and qualities of light where my father is, not to solve anything but just...

Things to do, places to be, people to kill.

Quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death.

But where are you going to, Helen? Can you see? Do you know?-I believe; I have faith: I am going to God.-Where is God? What is God?-My maker and yours, who will never destroy what...

As I sat on the porch on that December day . . . I leaned my head against the rail and sighed deeply. The way I figured it just then, my summer may have been...

I stood beside the U-Haul, and I just watched her. I stared at her while she looked on with the saddest look in her eyes. I wanted to know what she was thinking about, what...

I asked him if it were a mirage, and he said yes. I said it was a dream, and he agreed, But said it was the desert’s dream not his. And he told me that...

Mankind, in all his lusts, punishes himself. The gods have to do very little.

The serious writer was aware of a paradox at the heart of his art: his inner world, the place of the strongest stories, was infinite, but it was also embedded in – if this was...

Enough!” ter Borcht said.

Seconds turn into minutes and minutes into hours. It is all still the same. Or it no longer is. If I were to ask what has changed, perhaps nothing, but conceivably everything would be the...

Though his death would not fill me with any sense of sadness, I would probably feel the loss. Even enemies are part of one.

No mark survives this place: you too will yieldto unmemory.

When the dead do walk seek water’s run,for this the Dead will always shun. Swift river’s best or broadest laketo ward the dead and have and make.If water fails thee, fire’s thy friend, if neither...

Being in grief, it turns out, is not unlike being in love.In both states, the imagination’s entirely occupied with one person. The beloved dwells at the heart of the world, and becomes a Rome: the...

Boy, the DMV has got to be the strangest dating agency. But I suppose love is worth the wait. If I don’t meet a woman here, there’s this new club called The Morgue I want...

But, Aunt… I don’t want to go to the grave site set aside for me a few years ago at the ancestral grave site. I don’t want to go there. When I lived here and...

Only in death will we have our own names since only in death are we no longer part of the effort. In death we become heroes.

It kills me sometimes, how people die.

Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren’t they? Death. The inevitability of death. . .. . . (quoting an obituary) ‘There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that ever...