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

This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.

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

How can you say that so casually? You’re talking about the possible death of hundreds of people, yourself included.”He gave a negligent shrug. “Wrong place, wrong time. Life sucks.

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...

Wisdom is a true activity of compassion. And so, meditation is the act of loving kindness. It is the activity where loving kindness is applied on all levels.

Leonard asks me if there’s anything I need to know before he dies, I think about it for a minute, turn to him, say what’s the meaning of life, Leonard? He laughs, says that’s an...

Instead of hating, my heart cries mercy! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! Mercy on me!

Bambi was inspired, and said trembling, “There is Another who is over us all, over us and over Him.

Top 10 Deathbed Regrets:1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life other people expected of me.2. I wish I took time to be with my children...

When I die I’m donating my body to science, because everybody loves a free buffet.

To hear of a thousand deaths in war is terrible, and we “know” that it is. But as it registers on our hearts, it is not more terrible than one death fully imagined.

I stepped on the bug to prove I love her, and show that I’d kill for her. Is there really any mystery as to why the guy she was talking to before me just disappeared...

When Sherri asks questions about who would find me if I killed myself and what their reaction would be, I think that whoever knew me would be sad. But then everybody would get over it....

But where corpses were buried secretly, there the grass grows thick; such signs (and there are ever so many others!) may be read by those to whom truth is more important than beauty.

Survival is running from death.Our whole life is running from death, but we all just meet it while we are running from it! what a failure is this try!

Between death and hell a bridge shining silver wings offers his soul hope.

As I would soon learn myself, cleaning up what a parent leaves behind stirs up dust, both literal and metaphorical. It dredges up memories. You feel like you’re a kid again, poking around in your...

The Nevernever is dying, human. It grows smaller and smaller every decade. Too much progress, too much technology. Mortals are losing their faith in anything but science. Even the children of man are consumed by...

And in it all, the sensation of shaking my fists at the sky, shaking my fists high up to the sky, because that is what we do when someone dies too early, too beautiful, too...

ALL THINGS THAT ARE, ARE OURS. BUT WE MUST CARE. FOR IF WE DO NOT CARE, WE DO NOT EXIST. IF WE DO NOT EXIST, THEN THERE IS NOTHING BUT BLIND OBLIVION. AND EVEN OBLIVION...

You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.

The richest people in the world build networks and invest in people; everyone else looks for work and invests in survival.

I should not really object to dying were it not followed by death.

I was caught in a love triangle with one dead side.

It was then I truly realised the whale is no more a fish than I am. So much blood. This was not like the fish on the quay, fresh caught, lying flipping and flopping, death...

Time and space were, from Death’s point of view, merely things that he’d heard described. When it came to Death, they ticked the box marked Not Applicable. It might help to think of the universe...

This is how most stories end in the hospital. Not with crash carts and sirens and electric shocks to the chest, but with an empty room, a crisp white bed, silence.

The dog leash was still tied tight around the oak tree in the back, stretched worn and limp across the green grass as if trying to escape to freedom; and he buried his wife without...

And in the happy no-time of his sleeping/ Death took him by the heart.

[T]here is something to recommend a story that ends.

It was a lesson she was still learning. When she had first started nursing, she had taken every death personally, like she was losing her father all over again. Every patient lost under her care...

Whenever you see flies or insects in a still life—a wilted petal, a black spot on the apple—the painter is giving you a secret message. He’s telling you that living things don’t last—it’s all temporary....

Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back into the same box.

Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either.

The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

I want to live. I want to live life with all it’s emotions, all it’s experiences, I don’t want to miss anyhting. But I feel like I will.

He should be happy because he can think about the unhappiness of others!He’s stupid if he doesn’t know other people’s unhappiness is theirs,And isn’t cured from the outside,Because suffering isn’t like running out of ink,Or...

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable?

There is something beautiful in every person that never dies, no matter their misfortunes.

…The typhoon of madness that swept through the country [of Rwanda] between April 7 and the third week of May accounted for 80 percent of the victims of the genocide.That means about eight hundred thousand...

And what does it mean — dying? Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and only the five we know are lost at death, while the other ninety-five remain alive.

Life on earth is a transition.Death is final rest of every man.What legacy do you wish to live?

If you Have ever Fainted, You Are a stranger in the land of the dead!

Only one wish I have, and that is to die a happy man.

This is life or death, basically. At least for me on the regular tour, there is always next week or the week after. Out here, there is no next week. It was tough.

But spending your life concentrating on death is like watching a whole movie and thinking only about the credits that are going to roll at the end. It’s a mistake of emphasis.

Kellyanne opened the car door and crawled into my bedroom. Her face was puffy and pale and fuzzed-over. She just came in and said: “Ashmol, Pobby and Dingan are maybe-dead.” That’s how she said it.

Comrade Norman Bethune, a member of the Communist Party of Canada, was around fifty when he was sent by the Communist Parties of Canada and the United States to China; he made light of travelling...

Jeanne’s sisters thought nothing of themselves…. Helen stayed up late in Brookline, baking. Lemon squares, and brownies, pecan bars, apple cake, sandy almond cookies. Alone in her kitchen, she wrapped these offerings in waxed paper...