She told me she’d never forget me as long as she lived, and I got offended, because what, as soon as she dies I’m forgotten? Gee, thanks. I see how much I mean to her.

Are not our lives too short for that full utterance which through all our stammerings is of course our only and abiding intention?

The natural consequence of being connected to the depth, what I call the soul, or your essence, is the attribute of joy.

The best part about love is it’ll still be around long after I’m dead. That’s also the worst part.

He looked upon this verdant, blossoming spring, a spring Joanna would never see, he looked upon a field of brilliant blue flowers- the bluebells Joanna had so loved- and at that moment he’d willingly have...

I realized that whilst crying over the loss, the living did not seem adequate because they were not my loved one. The room full of strangers hurt me profusely. Even as I saw thousands of...

Hooray! I finally finished making a new book cover. Now I just need to write the book. The cover is the image of a man hanging, so perhaps I’ll write a romance novel.

Todd?”And Aaron wrenches his arms and there’s a CRACK and a scream and a cut-off yelp that tears my heart in two forever and forever.And the pain is too much it’s too much it’s too...

Well, suppose we remain upon earth, after all? Suppose we bravely accept the death of our dreams at the same time as the death of our bodies? This beyond is decidedly uncertain, quite vague and...

When I saw a murder taking place, I almost didn’t have time to make coffee before stopping it. But thank God I did, because otherwise somebody would have died—and even worse, I’d be tired.

LIFE never really ends… It just changes. You never lose your loved ones, you gain guardian angels.

You may say that I am just another outdated old man complaining about progress and the changes of time. But, you see, I have well considered that possibility myself, and am prepared o submit to...

Jesus might not think so, but maybe the dead are best left that way.

Even now I can’t describe the fear that contaminated my blood like black ink.

As she cried, I could feel growing there, as had once before, a presence between us: the tiny perfect form of Sherry nestled between her parents’ bodies. Our bodies were shaped by her absence, by...

Sufism, in one definition, “is” human life.

I mentally bless and exonerate anyone who has kicked a chair out from beneath her or swallowed opium in large chunks. My mind has met their environment, here in the void. I understand perfectly.

As Master Nathaniel jogged leisurely along his thoughts turned to the Farmer Gibberty, who many a time must have jogged along this path, in just such a way, and seen and heard the very same...

Kuoletko sinä?” kysyin, ja äiti nauroi kuin olisin kertonut vitsin, ja se nauru merkitsi minulle enemmän kuin miljoona eitä.

The reaper does not listen to the harvest.

The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.

Live to ask. Die to answer.

The portraits, of more historical than artistic interest, had gone; and tapestry, full of the blue and bronze of peacocks, fell over the doors, and shut out all history and activity untouched with beauty and...

it is only more life.

Her mouth set. “I’ve already lost one man I loved tonight. I will not lose the other.” She glared at him. “And curse you, you stone head, for making me say it first.

Grandfather : Death is nothing to be afraid of.Renee : It’s not death I’m afraid of.Grandfather: What is it, then?Renee : LIFE

You know we talked about where people go when they die. I just believe you go someplace and I seen her layin there and I thought maybe she wouldn’t go to heaven because, you know,...

If I lie down on my bed I must be here,But if I lie down in my grave I may be elsewhere.

Darker and darker, he said; farther and farther yet. Death takes the good, the beautiful, and the young – and spares me. The Pestilence that wastes, the Arrow that strikes, the Sea that drowns, the...

It’s not the dead even. They’re gone. Nothing you can do about that. It’s what’s left behind – the echo. These woods you’re walking through. There are some old timers who think a sound echoes...

We term sleep a death by which we may be literally said to die daily; in fine, so like death, I dare not trust it without my prayers.

Death is a poison parsley on a dessert wine.

The Angel of Death took the woman’s frail hand. “Don’t be afraid.” she said. “Life is your past. Death, on the other hand, is your soul preparing for a new beginning. A brand new adventure,...

Love is bitter, death is sweet.

Every time you take a step, even when you don’t want to. . . . When it hurts, when it means you rub chins with death, or even if it means dying, that’s good. Anything...

She made the decision that her existence had lost its meaning. And you cannot judge that.

The night was starless and very dark. Without doubt, in the gloom some mighty angel was standing, with outstretched wings, awaiting the soul.

There Albine lay, panting, exhausted by love, her hands clutched closer and closer to her heart, breathing her last. She parted her lips, seeking the kiss which should obliterate her, and then the hyacinths and...

We need the life… We need to know what we take left someone weaker or dead. It reminds us what we were. The Hunger when you start out, it isn’t in the stomach or brain....

Dave learned that Death is the opposite of peace: it’s struggle, it’s ugly, it’s horrific, it’s dirty. And ultimately, Death is emptiness.

to die tomorrow was no worse than dying on any other day. Every day was there to be lived or to mark one’s departure from this world.

Because I could not stop for Death,He kindly stopped for me;The carriage held but just ourselvesAnd Immortality.We slowly drove, he knew no haste,And I had put awayMy labour, and my leisure too,For his civility.We passed...

When it comes, you’ll be dreamingthat you don’t need to breathe;that breathless silence isthe music of the darkand it’s part of the rhythmto vanish like a spark.

It would be well to realize that the talk of ‘humane methods of warfare’, of the ‘rules of civilized warfare’, and all such homage to the finer sentiments of the race are hypocritical and unreal,...

Believe that you are someone worth saving.

We are all dead, we just haven’t figured it out yet.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I loveIf you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.You will hardly know who I am or what I meanBut I shall...

He tried drowning himself, but he only succeeded in taking a bath. That man was my dad, and I showed him how to tie a tie—and a noose.

All that tread,The globe are but a handful to the tribes,That slumber in its bosom.

I was discovering that the most precious gift someone can give us is time, because what gives time its value is death.