Dead Quotes - Page 11

I don't understand why did jesus give life to the dead when they have to die again?

I don't understand why did jesus give life to the dead when they had to die again?

[Robert's eulogy at his brother, Ebon C. Ingersoll's grave. Even the great orator Robert Ingersoll was choked up with tears at the memory of his beloved brother]The record of a generous life runs like a vine around the memory of our dead, and every sweet, unselfish act is now a perfumed flower.Dear Friends: I am going to do that which the dead oft promised he would do for me.The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, died where manhood's morning almost touches noon, and while the shadows still were falling toward the west.He had not passed on life's highway the stone that marks the highest point; but, being weary for a moment, he lay down by the wayside, and, using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids still. While yet in love with life and raptured with the world, he passed to silence and pathetic dust.Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are kissing every sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and in an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. For whether in mid sea or 'mong the breakers of the farther shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death.This brave and tender man in every storm of life was oak and rock; but in the sunshine he was vine and flower. He was the friend of all heroic souls. He climbed the heights, and left all superstitions far below, while on his forehead fell the golden dawning, of the grander day.He loved the beautiful, and was with color, form, and music touched to tears. He sided with the weak, the poor, and wronged, and lovingly gave alms. With loyal heart and with the purest hands he faithfully discharged all public trusts.He was a worshipper of liberty, a friend of the oppressed. A thousand times I have heard him quote these words: 'For Justice all place a temple, and all season, summer!' He believed that happiness was the only good, reason the only torch, justice the only worship, humanity the only religion, and love the only priest. He added to the sum of human joy; and were every one to whom he did some loving service to bring a blossom to his grave, he would sleep to-night beneath a wilderness of flowers.Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, 'I am better now.' Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas, of fears and tears, that these dear words are true of all the countless dead.And now, to you, who have been chosen, from among the many men he loved, to do the last sad office for the dead, we give his sacred dust.Speech cannot contain our love. There was, there is, no gentler, stronger, manlier man.

Robert G. Ingersoll

we met one strange summerin a regular tangle of sticky websyou had the air of angels sweet but I--drowned with the damned spiritsin lava oceans fearing your--foreign static frequency and grey-green eyes(I swear they are even if you--think otherwise): stormscalm ones, calmer than my--raging coals, empty and deadyou speak of souls like you believealways an optimist in pessimisticskin of ivory and titanium mesh...

Moonshine Noire

Faith without any actions in accordance with God’s will is a dead faith

Sunday Adelaja

Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?

Lailah Gifty Akita

O may I join the choir invisibleOf those immortal dead who live againIn minds made better by their presence; liveIn pulses stirred to generosity,In deeds of daring rectitude...

George Eliot

The real reason the number of things that are shared via social media every single minute is so astronomical is because, whenever they each do, most users do not share or say something because they believe they have something worth remembering; they do mainly or only because they fear being forgotten.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

We envy people who are extremely old because we wish to live that long, not because we want to be that old.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

An expensive coffin does not decrease the deceased’s chances of going to hell.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Many a death was precipitated by the food, the job, or the medication whose main function was to postpone it.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

The death of a billionaire is worth more to the media than the lives of a billion poor people.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Plants are more courageous than almost all human beings: an orange tree would rather die than produce lemons, whereas instead of dying the average person would rather be someone they are not.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Most human beings would have never been pained by the death of a human being if they had never seen a human being or pretending to be pained by that.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

A premature death does not only rob one of the countless instances where one would have experienced pleasure, it also saves one from the innumerable instances where one would have experienced pain.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Life is a process during which one initially gets less and less dependent, independent, and then more and more dependent.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

As an unavoidable result of the inevitable loss of some physical and/or some mental abilities, many a man who has been alive for many years has become a boy again.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Many a survivor of a plane crash who is or was against cannibalism and had never eaten human flesh once found themselves in a situation where they had to either eat human flesh, or go the way of all flesh.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

The exhilaration of battle was agreeable to him, but the sight of the dead, with their clay faces, blank eyes, and stiff bodies, which, when not unnaturally shrunken, were unnaturally swollen, had always intolerably affected him. He felt toward them a kind of reasonless antipathy which was something more than the physical and spiritual repugnance common to us all. Doubtless this feeling was due to his unusually acute sensibilities - his keen sense of the beautiful, which these hideous things outraged. Whatever may have been the cause, he could not look upon a dead body without a loathing which had in it an element of reselltment. What others have respected as the dignity of death had to him no existence - was altogether unthinkable. Death was a thing to be hated. It was not picturesque, it had no tender and solemn side - a dismal thing, hideous in all its manifestations and suggestions. Lieutenant Byring was a braver man than anybody knew, for nobody knew his horror of that which he was ever ready to encounter. ("A Tough Tussle")

Ambrose Bierce

Instead, I opened my eyes to find the thing in front of my face, wafting dead horse breath across my chin and up my nose, its mouth like a gaping maw; its eyes, two giant wormholes, twisting and bending with some apparitional substance that could have been space and time if I’d known anything about physics.

Shannon Celebi

She had thought he was dead, or at least not totally alive, and you could not still be dating someone you believe had an autopsy, so it was not really cheating.

Thomm Quackenbush

Technically, all tattoos are temporary, even permanent ones.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

In the end, this volume should be read a s a collection of love stories, Above all, they are tales of love, not the love with which so many stories end – the love of fidelity, kindness and fertility – but the other side of love, its cruelty, sterility and duplicity. In a way, the decadents did accept Nordau's idea of the artist as monster. But in nature, the glory and panacea of romanticism, they found nothing. Theirs is an aesthetic that disavows the natural and with it the body. The truly beautiful body is dead, because it is empty. Decadent work is always morbid, but its attraction to death is through art. What they refused was the condemnation of that monster. And yet despite the decadent celebration of artifice, these stories record art's failure in the struggle against natural horror. Nature fights back and wins, and decadent writing remains a remarkable account of that failure.

Asti Hustvedt

As if the dead really do persist, even in a bottle of wine.

Thomas Pynchon

You can’t get the blood out.

Steven Ramirez

You smell so good,""No, I don't, I smell like death.""You're crazy, you're not dead. You do not smell like death.""I was dead a long time.""And now you're not. Hence the alive smell.

Amy Tintera

Good thing I'm aging, otherwise I'd be dead.

Ana Monnar

Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.

Wilfred Owen

There is a certain seductiveness about dead things. You can ill treat, alter and recolour what's dead. It won’t complain.

Jeanette Winterson

when I become death. Death is the seed from which I grow.

William S Burroughs

...the dead have a way of becoming saints in the eyes of their survivors...

Rachel Vincent

Sometimes dead is better

Stephen King

Of course I want to kill you," said Skulduggery. "I want to kill most people. But then where would I be? In a field of dead people with no one to talk to.

Derek Landy

The dead could only speak through the mouths of those left behind, and through the signs they left scattered behind them.

Robert Galbraith

What could you possibly hope to find in a cemetary?" The women said. "The dead tell no secrets and the living seldom come to visit them.

Felix Alexander

Is there any hope for the dead?

Lailah Gifty Akita

The least I can do is speak out for the hundreds of chimpanzees who, right now, sit hunched, miserable and without hope, staring out with dead eyes from their metal prisons. They cannot speak for themselves.

Jane Goodall

You don't think I'm going to deflower you under your father's roof, do you?

Amanda Ashley

That settles it, no more books about vampire before bedtime.

Amanda Ashley

But suppose the endlessly dead were to wake in us some emblem:they might point to the catkins hangingfrom the empty hazel trees, or direct us to the raindescending on black earth in early spring. ---And we, who always think of happinessrising, would feel the emotionthat almost baffles uswhen a happy thing falls.

Rainer Maria Rilke

It goes without saying that even those of us who are going to hell will get eternal life—if that territory really exists outside religious books and the minds of believers, that is. Having said that, given the choice, instead of being grilled until hell freezes over, the average sane human being would, needless to say, rather spend forever idling in an extremely fertile garden, next to a lamb or a chicken or a parrot, which they do not secretly want to eat, and a lion or a tiger or a crocodile, which does not secretly want to eat them.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

When the dead departed, they took away any falsehoods that they might have allowed us to believe while alive; we who are left behind have to embark on a different life, since the dead are no longer here to help us deceive ourselves.

Yiyun Li

Your faith is your conscience, and your conscience is your faith. You cannot have faith without a conscience, but you can have a conscience without faith. Man was designed to be good with or without religion, yet the challenge for many is staying good. Some people claim to be religious but have no conscience, while some people without religion are very much aware of their conscience. Therefore, a religious label does not define your character or validate your worth. In the end, all men will be judged by the amount of truth in them and the weight of their hearts. The heavier the conscience, the heavier the truth. The lighter the heart, the higher it goes. The only spiritual currency one has in the afterlife is amassed in the form of light, in that, the amount you have depends on the weight of your words and deeds in the living. Conscience is everything. Conscience is what connects us to the truth and light of the highest power source of all. God. The cosmic heart of the universe.

Suzy Kassem

It's when you sit alone,Or lay in your bed, That we will be watching,Waiting,Until you get scared.Then we will come,A scratch and a chill,For you will feel goosebumps,Look at the windowsill!Did you see a face?Looking in at you,You know that you did,Beware...you'll turn blue.Is that the wind,Howling at the moon,Or is it a werewolf,That's coming for you?So sit in your chair,Or lay in your bed,Because we''ll be there,And you'll be dead!

Anthony T.Hincks

The dead are way more organized than the living.

China Miéville

Name the different kinds of people,’ said Miss Lupescu. ‘Now.’Bod thought for a moment. ‘The living,’ he said. ‘Er. The dead.’ He stopped. Then, ‘... Cats?’ he offered, uncertainly.

Neil Gaiman

You gotta take chances in this life or you're alreadydead.

Megan McCafferty

Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.

Mary Harris Jones

Life is but a dream for the dead.

Gerard Way

Crap.It's all crap.Living is crap.Life has no meaning.None. Nowhere to be found.Crap.Why doesn't anybody realize this?

K-Ske Hasegawa

It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.

Mary E. Pearson

Rainer Maria Rilke

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Dead Quotes - Page 11

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