Death Quotes - Page 67

Morrie,” Koppel said, “that was seventy years ago your mother died. The pain still goes on?”“You bet,” Morrie whispered.

Mitch Albom

You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.

Erin Morgenstern

Even the most innocent of men's affairs seem doomed to cause suffering. Pushing the lawnmower through tall wet grass, and enjoying the strong aroma of the morning, I found that the blades had cut a frog in half. I have not forgotten his eyes.

Christopher Morley

It's what we do, we continue on. Yet, what is the point? There is nothing ahead of us when there is nothing left of us.

D.R. Hedge

I guess it's the same way trees grow around the very vines that are killing them, so they're strangled and sustained all at once. After a long time, even pain can be a comfort.

Lauren Oliver

I worry if we die and become stars,how will you hold me? and how will I kiss you?

Charlyn Khater

And i chose life and love and happiness and pain...

Anna Akana

And I chose life and love and happiness and pain

Anna Akana

We do not have too much pain in this life, we have too little... Because through pain we arrive at God. We are death, dust, ashes... how should we complain?

Georg Büchner

This is why the deepest form of pain comes out as silence.

Holly Goldberg Sloan

Death may be peaceful but the circumstances leading to it are more often than not anything but. They slept that day with their eyes open, with death as the companion of their dreams. Maybe you would like to imagine that they were looking at each other, heads twisted at grotesque angles or at the fading sun. Their bodies were just empty vessels and their eyes were windows that showed only a vacant home. Maybe it was because they had passed on into a world where the sun never set or maybe even a world where nothing existed but an infinite pool of darkness. You can choose to believe anything you want up to the time Death comes for you. After that, well, we can only imagin

Shitij Sharma

To bury something, it is often considered, either means the end of something or the passing on into the realm of the earth or the sky, only the dead could ever know. But it is not only the dead that we bury. We bury objects, memories, thoughts and emotions among other things. Contrary to popular belief burying something is not the end of it because even though it is suppressed beneath layers of earth or self control, the dead and buried don’t always remain that way and that is where the stories come from, the stories that haunt us for the rest of our no longer carefree lives.

Shitij Sharma

The death of a loved one is one of the worst experiences that life has to offer and yet it’s unavoidable, the only alternative being never loving in the first place. Life is so feeble, its flame extinguished as easily as blowing out a candle. All it takes is a misplaced step or disease, life eventually takes its course and the destination is always death.

Shitij Sharma

He needs a looser association. He needs something that implies a man who wants the ice shard to remain in his chest, who's learned to love the sensation of being pierced.

Michael Cunningham

He ran as fast as he could, but the memories were fast too. He stumbled upon them and fell to the ground. The memories got up and stared into his eyes menacingly, they laughed harder and kept their foot on his neck. He choked and fought to breathe. He tried and failed to scream. They choked him hard until he suffered and died miserably inside.

Akshay Vasu

The best part of my life is ,My death will not cause pain for anyone.

Mohammed Zaki Ansari

There is only one thing in this world worse than dying and that’s watching someone you love die instead—you feel their pain with no final solace.

Caroline George

Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.

H.S. Crow

I knew then why I had to suffer. The older we get, the more reasons God gives us to seek His comfort. In the end, He sends us just enough pain and suffering so that we will want to leave. If everything were perfect, we would never choose to go. He wants us to seek an end to our suffering because He wants us to want to come Home.

Kate McGahan

I know now that everything after the accident was merely a tactic to indulge in escapism and self-delusion. When you are hit by a streetcar that almost smashes you to a pulp, when you experience your own end...there is no recovery, only temporary respite, she thought.Pain made me aware of my body. My body made me aware of deterioration and death. That awareness made me old. My death sentence may have been deferred, but I now had to live with a twofold realization. Not only was I going to die—there was nothing unusual about that except that I was made to realize it at a tender age—but I knew exactly what that meant. Because I had already been through it. Unlike other condemned people for whom death is an abstraction because they have no idea what really awaits them, my stay of death came with a constant reminder, the presence of pain.

Slavenka Drakulić

We resent the thought that anything can please us when someone we love is no longer here to share the pleasure with us, and we almost feel as if we were unfaithful to our sorrow when we find out interest in life returning to us.

L.M. Montgomery

Grief is shameless; it refuses to be ignored. If you let it have its way, it becomes fatal. If you try to remove it piece by piece, it only multiplies like a tumor. And if you try to fight it, it becomes like quicksand; you try to claw your way back to the surface, and for a second you feel the fresh air against your face, thinking you've survived, only to be pulled fiercely back down again, swallowed whole, nothing left.

Zeina Kassem

I wish I had lost an arm or a leg. It would have been much easier than losing a part of my heart, which lives on, but now beats to a different rhythm.

Zeina Kassem

It's as though you had lost an arm or leg but still instinctively reach out to feel your missing limb or try to walk again, placing your entire weight on something that is no longer is there.

Zeina Kassem

We hide our demons so good, that the angels we show, bare the shame on their faces.

Anthony Liccione

I don't think I ever fully understood before now the old saying that goes: "A mother's heart loves her young one until he grows; her ill one until he heals; and her traveler until he returns."I have experienced all kinds of waiting; I've waited for my young to grow and the sick to heal, but I am still waiting on my little traveler and I do not know how long it will be until I see him again.

Zeina Kassem

Our dead become the photographs and words we hang on the walls, but they also hang on the walls of our hearts, the windows of our lips, and the sobs in our voices.

Zeina Kassem

From cradle to grave, Talal sprinted through life.I never did see a life extinguished so abruptly.

Zeina Kassem

That's when it hit me; my sunglasses were buried in the grave where my Talal lay. Yes, my sunglasses were buried with him. But oh, how I wish my eyes had gone with him instead.

Zeina Kassem

The beauty of the sea is that it never shows any weakness and never tires of the countless souls that unleash their broken voices into its secret depths.

Zeina Kassem

I watched life and death unfold like a dance on the side of that road. My son was born with a bloodstained face and he died with blood from the accident covering that same face.

Zeina Kassem

My pains, sometimes seem like witch hunters: confess, confess, confess. Like a heavy stone on my rib-cage.Confess to what?And, of course, I would confess, if only I knew what it was they wanted to hear.

Richard Smyth

But somebody else had spoken Snape’s name, quite softly.“Severus . . .”The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading.Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.“Severus . . . please . . .”Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumble

J.K. Rowling

There are no separations—only connections. There are no deaths—only transformations.

Debasish Mridha

When death is the ultimate destination for all of us, why are we not enjoying our lives?

Debasish Mridha

You can never die. With death, you transform and transcend.

Debasish Mridha

That's what we're all looking for. A certain peace with the idea of dying. If we know, in the end, that we can ultimately have that peace with dying, then we can finally do the really hard thing." Which is? "Make peace with living.

Mitch Albom from "Tuesdays with Morrie"

THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNERThe man in the cornerIs dying with wordsHe's crying to be heardHis days are markedAnd his only ears are birdsHe knows the secret to peaceAnd his experience bleeds and hurtsSomebody stop and listenBefore he departs the earth!Somebody write his thoughtsBefore he hits the turf!His eyes are closing their shuttersAnd he just dropped hisBeads and stick.His breath is leaving us.Please!Somebody hear him out quick!A little girl rushes to him andPicks up his cane of wood.The old man then turns to herAnd faintly whispers,"The key to peace isTo always stay fairAnd be good.

Suzy Kassem

I have realized that we all have plague, and I have lost my peace. And today I am still trying to find it; still trying to understand all those others and not to be the enemy of anyone. I only know that one must do what one can to cease being plague-stricken, and that's the only way in which we can hope for some peace or, failing that, a decent death. This, and only this, can bring relief to men and, if not save them, at least do them the least harm possible and even, sometimes, a little good.

Albert Camus

Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose fitful soundSeems from some faint Aeolian harp-string caught;Seal up the hundred wakeful eyes of thoughtAs Hermes with his lyre in sleep profoundThe hundred wakeful eyes of Argus bound;For I am weary, and am overwroughtWith too much toil, with too much care distraught,And with the iron crown of anguish crowned.Lay thy soft hand upon my brow and cheek,O peaceful Sleep! until from pain releasedI breathe again uninterrupted breath!Ah, with what subtile meaning did the GreekCall thee the lesser mystery at the feastWhereof the greater mystery is death!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

... In the chamber of death... I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break, and I feel an assurance of the endless and shadowless hereafter-the Eternity they have entered-where life is boundless in its duration, and love in its sympathy, and joy in its fullness... One might doubt in seasons of cold reflection; but not then in the presence of her corpse. It asserted its own tranquility, which seemed a pledge of equal quiet to its former inhabitant.

Emily Brontë

I've never feared death before. I’ve always been willing to die. Sometimes I even welcomed it, wishing for this all to be over and finally find peace in an endless sleep. But when I look at you, I see possibility, and I start to do what I know better than to do—I wonder

Emalynne Wilder

Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown days, a week, a year, or a decade, each far too precious little and yet, poignantly too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer. That irreversible release lingers in the doorway, but is never quite ushered all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place.” When the time finally comes, we can be enveloped in a warm cloak of long-awaited acceptance and peace that eases our own pain; that quiets the grief which has moaned inside of us, at least some, every single one one of those bittersweet days, weeks... or years.

Connie Kerbs

Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown hours, days, a week, a year, or a decade, each far too precious little and yet, poignantly too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer. That fear-ridden, irreversible release lingers in the doorway, but hesitates for reasons we don't understand, leaving us to weep a special cocktail of tears made of angst and gratitude, permeating us with some of the deepest emotions we will ever know. Finally, the release is ushered all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place. It also envelopes us in a warm cloak of acceptance and peace that eases our own pain. It quiets the grief which has moaned inside of us, at least some, every single one of those bittersweet hours, days, weeks... or years.” Until that day of our own flying away, and beholding our loved one again, in that Beautiful Paradise.

Connie Kerbs

I find my thoughts, increasingly, not on the supernatural or spiritual but on what is meant by living a good and worthwhile life—achieving a sense of peace within oneself.

Oliver Sacks

My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses over it.

Omar Khayyám

The day arrived,when myriad teary rivers flow and the muted wind faintly died in his tears—an altar for the beloved one's departure,for sister-hood is no more,for her to adore!while pangs the beating world in a lamenting voice;their remembering loss of the 'one' they embrace most and when the crepuscule came like a phantom,the mournful,gathered birds swiftly flew in gloom.

Nithin Purple

You need to keep hurting until you realise you never needed to hurt in the first place.

Kamand Kojouri

Tears sting my eyes once more, building up and rolling over my cheeks with the heat of a dying star. Isn’t that what death is? It’s forgetting. It’s letting go. We make peace with the dead to say goodbye.

Ryan Galloway

The flowering chocolate drink is foaming,Tobacco flowers are passed round,If my heart tastes them,I will be intoxicated…Listen, I am alone and tormented,May I not go to the place of the fleshless…Alone I must go, my own self shall become lost…I will go alone,My heart covered with flowers…Thus let it be,But let it be without violence!

Tlaltecatzin

We are thankful to come here for rest, sir," said Jenny. "You see, you don't know what the rest of this place is to us; does he, Lizzie? It's the quiet, and the air.""The quiet!" repeated Fledgeby, with a contemptuous turn of his head towards the City's roar. "And the air!" with a "Poof!" at the smoke."Ah!" said Jenny. "But it's so high. And you see the clouds rushing on above the narrow streets, not minding them, and you see the golden arrows pointing at the mountains in the sky from which the wind comes, and you feel as if you were dead."The little creature looked above her, holding up her slight transparent hand."How do you feel when you are dead?" asked Fledgeby, much perplexed."Oh, so tranquil!" cried the little creature, smiling. "Oh, so peaceful and so thankful! And you hear the people who are alive, crying, and working, and calling to one another down in the close dark streets, and you seem to pity them so! And such a chain has fallen from you, and such a strange good sorrowful happiness comes upon you!"Her eyes fell on the old man, who, with his hands folded, quietly looked on."Why it was only just now," said the little creature, pointing at him, "that I fancied I saw him come out of his grave! He toiled out at that low door so bent and worn, and then he took his breath and stood upright, and looked all round him at the sky, and the wind blew upon him, and his life down in the dark was over!—Till he was called back to life," she added, looking round at Fledgeby with that lower look of sharpness. "Why did you call him back?""He was long enough coming, anyhow," grumbled Fledgeby."But you are not dead, you know," said Jenny Wren. "Get down to life!"Mr Fledgeby seemed to think it rather a good suggestion, and with a nod turned round. As Riah followed to attend him down the stairs, the little creature called out to the Jew in a silvery tone, "Don't be long gone. Come back, and be dead!" And still as they went down they heard the little sweet voice, more and more faintly, half calling and half singing, "Come back and be dead, Come back and be dead!

Charles Dickens

Every living creature breathes.

Lailah Gifty Akita

At the end of our lives, when our bodies are about to be laid in Mother Earth, we will know for ourselves whether we are a Two-Legged being full of light or a Two-Legged being full of darkness.

Anasazi Foundation

Of course, accidents will happen in wild-folk families just as among us humans, only in a wild-folk family, an accident is more apt to be fatal.

Samuel Scoville Jr.

If only humans could die like the autumn leaves, with a splash of beauty and the promise of another season.

Shana Chartier

He sank back into his black-and-white world, his immobile world of inanimate drawings that had been granted the secret of motion, his death-world with its hidden gift of life. But that life was a deeply ambiguous life, a conjurer's trick, a crafty illusion based on an accidental property of the retina, which retained an image for a fraction of a second after the image was no longer present. On this frail fact was erected the entire structure of the cinema, that colossal confidence game. The animated cartoon was a far more honest expression of the cinematic illusion than the so-called realistic film, because the cartoon reveled in its own illusory nature, exulted in the impossible--indeed it claimed the impossible as its own, exalted it as its own highest end, found in impossibility, in the negation of the actual, its profoundest reason for being. The animated cartoon was nothing but the poetry of the impossible--therein lay its exhilaration and its secret melancholy. For this willful violation of the actual, while it was an intoxicating release from the constriction of things, was at the same time nothing but a delusion, an attempt to outwit mortality. As such it was doomed to failure. And yet it was desperately important to smash through the constriction of the actual, to unhinge the universe and let the impossible stream in, because otherwise--well, otherwise the world was nothing but an editorial cartoon.

Steven Millhauser

The prospect of death is nature's way of encouraging us to strive for greatness.

Antonio Kowatsch

Do not regret having lived, but while yet living live in a way that allows you to think that you were not born in vain.And do not regret that you must die: it is what all who are wise must Wish, to have life end at its proper time.For nature puts a limit to living as to everything else, And we are the sons and daughters of nature, and for us therefore the sleep of nature is nature's final kindness

A.C. Grayling

(...) pick up your axe, start at the rootsdon't miss the trunk, never forget:to end life truly and finallystart at the roots or end there.

Moonshine Noire

Nature loves death: she will not punish it.

Guy de Maupassant

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Death Quotes - Page 67

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