When you attempt suicide, the counselors try to talk you out of trying it again by asking you about other people, which is good prevention if you care about other people.

Reproduction is more pleasurable than death.

We can act only in our time, among the people who surround us. We shall be capable of nothing until we know whether we have the right to kill our fellow men, or the right...

Miranda was dark, like a midnight sky. But as she fell, her eyes shone like stars themselves.

Grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead, evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes, from others the low, grave chords that throb...

Of course his dust would be absorbed in other living things and to that degree at least he would exist again, though it was plain enough that the specific combination which was he would never...

If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present.

She cannot possibly be dead, people do not just die

The way black women say “girl” can be magical. Frankly, I have no solid beliefs about the survival of consciousness after physical death. But if it’s going to happen I know what I want to...

When compared to the fact that he might very well be dead by this time tomorrow, whether he was courageous or not today was pointless, empty. When compared to the fact that he might be...

Once upon a time the future was supposed to be brighter, shinier and more fun. When did that vision pass? When did the word ‘new’ lose it’s luster? Now the past is supposed to hold...

I wrapped my hands around the familiar cup and tried to draw strength from it. It was from Thea’s old Moss Rose set, remnant of careful scrimping and saving in her first year of marriage....

What made Olive the saddest about the Gardners was that everyone wanted to be enshrined in someone’s memory. It was the only way of living on after death, really: in the minds of loved ones....

That was what you did. You died. You did not know what it was about. They threw you in and told you the rules and the first time they caught you off base they killed...

Today will die tomorrow.

Four girls about Mira’s age were standing out on the deck on the upper level of the ferry. They were wearing hoodies, sweatpants and jeans. One of the girls was staring at the screen on...

At the temple there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

I recognized the great monument from the illustration in the copy of /The Jungle Book/ that my mother kept in the top drawer of my bedside table. When I went with Sophia to the Taj...

A culture that denies death is a barrier to achieving a good death. Overcoming our fears and wild misconceptions about death will be no small task, but we shouldn’t forget how quickly other cultural prejudices–racism,...

Why bother inflicting enormous pain on yourself when sooner or later Life would certainly get around to doing it for you?

Oh, we do not understand death, we never understand it; creatures are only truly dead when everyone else has died who knew them.

Just as trees bear their fruit before winter, just as bamboo grass produces its seeds just before it withers, sex is simply a struggle with death on the human level.

Life is better than death, I believe, if only because it is less boring, and because it has fresh peaches in it.

She’d made life poignant for the Irish. The terror she inspired gave peace its serenity; the pain she caused gave health its lustre; her failure to love made me grateful for my ability to do...

…the existential paradox we all experience; we feel that we are immortal, yet we know that we will die.

No amount of wishing will bring back the dead.

But, who is Death? A figure that harrows and wastes wherever and however it pleases. This is also a possible description of the Countess Bathory. Never did anyone wish so hard not to grow old;...

Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want...

Lifting the pillow, he brought out kanarack’s gun and hefted it in his hand. Tipping it toward him, he saw the hole where death came out. It looked easy. Even seductive. The Simplest way of...

Everyone dies young.

When all is said and done, everyone should be able to look back on their life and know that they made it exactly as they wanted it to be.

I take no actions that I wouldn’t publicly recount. If you can’t speak your deeds, then don’t do them.

I now can say I no longer fear death. Instead welcome it with open arms…

I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy...

Isn’t it strange, how one so afraid of contracting a fatal malady…should so earnestly wish for death, as well?

It was ironic, really – you want to die because you can’t be bothered to go on living – but then you’re expected to get all energetic and move furniture and stand on chairs and...

Yes, Bastille. I keep trying to get killed because it’s inconvenient for you.

This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It’s expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It’s a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you...

Part of the apparently conventional nature of our relationships is the threat of separation and death. This body dies. That body dies. We can rejuvenate, feel better, live longer, but, even so, in this world...

Everyone was eating, talking softly, glancing at me, hugging me, eating. It was as if someone had turned the volume down. Everything looked normal, but the sound was muted. Death did this, set all this...

oh. she heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)

Those who live in memories are never really dead.

I want you to kiss me, Longinus. Kiss me like this night will never end. If I am going to die, then this is my last request. Will you grant it?

I felt bad for trying to live a happy, full life, while my heart was buried in a dead man’s chest.

A complete life may be one ending in so full identification with the non-self that there is no self to die.

There was something shameful about surviving sorrow. You were corrupted. She was corrupted. She was no good anymore. She was inauthentic, apocryphal. She wanted to be a seeker and to travel further and further. But...

Do you realise that people die of boredom in London suburbs? It’s the second biggest cause of death amongs the English in general. Sheer boredom…

The inside of the Trace Italian, of course, does not exist. A player can get close enough to see it: it shines in the new deserts of Kansas, gleaming in the sun or starkly rising...

Charles de Foucauld, the found of the Little Brothers of Jesus, wrote a single sentence that’s ahad a profound impact on my life. He said, “The one thing we owe absolutely to God is never...

A few weeks ago I had a dream. I dreamed I was back at the house, in the red room, reading my microeconomics textbook. Maddy outside playing with Hope, and Agnes was preparing dinner. It...