That’s the kind of stories I know. Sad ones. Anyway, taken to it’s logical conclusion, every story is sad, because at the end everyone dies.

The fountain of death makes the still waters of life play.

Have to be honest with you Darquesse, I cannot feel that. That must be one of your special abilities, because to me, it looks like you just killed a whole bunch of people for no...

…don’t be afraid of going by a way you’ve never gone – that’s the way we’re all going…

This concern, feebly called ‘love of nature’, seemed to Shevek to be something much broader than love. There are souls, he thought, whose umbilicus has never been cut. They never got weaned from the universe....

What you are seeking in your retreat, I see clearly in every road and alleyway.

When I first accepted my own death, the world was intantly changed. It was a completely new sensation. It took something like this to finally open my eyes. Before, I had simply shut myself off...

Stories are what death thinks he puts an end to. He can’t understand that they end in him, but they don’t end with him.

We are tiny flames, Helikaon, and we flicker alone in the great dark for no more than a heartbeat. When we strive for wealth, glory and fame, it is meaningless. The nations we fight for...

≫Når du kaster den terning,≪ Sagde Filip, ≫hvad sker der så helt nøjagtig?≪≫Et stort spørgsmål,≪ Sagde Døden og så ham dybt i øjnene, ≫Mon sindet kan klare svaret?≪≫Prøv≪≫Når terningen kastes, så begynder sandet at løbe...

If one does die taking these drugs, the death is likely to be very peaceful. Morphia is, after all, the goddess of dreams.

I breathe onto a mirror just to make sure I’m still alive, and to see how good looking my breath is.

las petites morts”: because the things that bring us passion tend to slip past our defenses, to creep insidiously into every facet of our consciousnesses and kill us as ruthlessly, and efficiently, as any drug.

and it’s true, perfectly true. When you go out of here, all the particles that make you up will loosen and float apart, just like your daemons did. If you’ve seen people dying, you know...

People who die in Detroit and then go to hell probably think they’re in heaven. I know, because I’ve been to Cleveland.

Death and life were just adjacent verandas.

In such a beast as this…” (he means the army)”…it was the collective power that went, collapsing like a long-exhausted animal, at once falling under its own weight as much as that of its enemy....

Death is the only equality guaranteed in life. A poor man will die just as surely as a rich man.

is a myth. Invented by the war torn to make sense of the horrific. If we die, it will be so that others may live. Truly honorable death, the only honorable death, is one that...

Well, right now I’m not dead. But when I am, it’s like…I don’t know, I guess it’s like being inside a book that nobody’s reading. […] An old one. It’s up on a library shelf,...

My mom and dad died, but in their place I got a house of fog that’s easy to hide my feelings in. (No smoking, please.)

Life is a terminal illness.

Welcome death, quoth the rat, when the trap fell

The spirit is tied to the brain—for the brain makes us who we are. So if our spirit lives after death, so too does our intelligence and personality.

She was someone who heard each grain in the hour-glass, she felt the passing seconds like sandpaper against her softest skin. Time actually seemed to hurt her, and people helped her get through it. [..]...

We are living now.We shall not live long.No one should tell us we shall live again.This is our little while.This is our chance.

Silverbird” that I carried around the house, petting it like a cat. Needless to say it died. So I ate it.

You too, you took an interest in the world. That was long ago. I want you to cast your mind back to then. The domain of the rules was no longer enough for you; you...

Her family was a relay team racing toward Tomorrowland, but her father died, and in their shock they kept losing the baton.

Funerals, Coffins, and Death. It’s not just a way of life; it’s also for breakfast. Yes, that is the new cereal I’m preparing to launch. Don’t mix it with milk. Pour it on formaldehyde.

The sound of him drinking was indescribable—like dirty runoff down a storm drain.

…Not that it was unjust; not that the scales were forced out of balance. Where there had been good, it showed as clearly. Kindnesses, accomplishments, all those were present, too.

Death is as unexpected in his caprice as a courtesan in her disdain; but death is truer – Death has never forsaken any man

I’m not a bad person.

Once they have dedicated themselves to a cause, women will fight to the end for it.

It feels weird, being out in the real world again. Around people just living their lives like normal. Their presence is oppressive. The very fact that the world is going on as usual, like nothing...

Death was a quiet evil, unavoidable like the dark night and defenseless sleep and tearful sorrows. It had hunted her down and slithered close, wanting only to smother every last flicker of life.”—from “My Aquarius

Wherever you look there is so much loss and folly to contemplate.

I’ll drink your champagne. I’ll drink every drop of it, I don’t care if it kills me.

That’s one of the problems with doing anything for a long time. Staying home, for instance. The longer you stay, the more you believe your identity is wrapped up in the people and things around...

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

A tip for increased sales or in situations of life or death: Try to always refer to the lady as Miss. or Ms. Using the term: Ma’am could piss her off.

Let go of me!” I yelled back.But he was too strong and managed to haul most of me over the rail, enough so that I wasn’t in total danger of falling again.See, here’s the thing....

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.

The dead are way more organized than the living.

A tired man lay down his headin a dusty room so dim,and for so long his wife did shakeand yell to waken him.Meanwhile his thoughts, his dreams, did stirof sandy, red bullfights,of powder-blasts in the...

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.

I don’t want to be dying. I want to be dead.

I was beginning to agree with the thesis that some truths were better off dead.And buried.

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