Death Quotes - Page 6

We do not have to see the beginning and the end of our lives, but we must close our eyes and live as if we didn't start or would never end.

One day, while life is being incredible and interesting, I’m going to die.

Quit lying to yourself and accept your power and beauty. Liberate yourself from the slow-death you call life.

A friend is someone who can brighten your day with a simple smile, when others try to do it with a thousand words.

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

I am in love, and the river is beginning to ice over. I’d better go drown myself before I freeze to death.


Light or Death!

For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey between footsteps makes up our lives.

Because in the end, we die. It’s like Chekhov observed in so many of his plays: ‘in two hundred years, no one will even know we were here.

Every artist takes their final work to the grave.

After I leave the earth my work is anyway going to belong to the world for centuries but till that time I want to work freely.

Now if a man thus favoured died as he has lived, he will be just the one you are looking for: the only sort of person who deserves to be called happy. But mark this: until he is dead, keep the word "happy" in reserve. Till then, he is not happy, but only lucky...

History has to live with what was here,
clutching and close to fumbling all we had -
it is so dull and gruesome how we die,
unlike writing, life never finishes.

He was cold and tired, but he ignored the cold. Around him stars shone. Some bright, some dim, the most constant things in life. Segundo smiled up at them, happy at least to be dying among friends.

This world rubs me raw, scours me smooth like an SOS pad put to a grease-caked skillet. And pain: it stabs and scrapes and pulls me back to earth, my final B&B, that worm-spun cot of cool black sod.

The utter unbroken silence was more appalling than any ominous noise, than the loudest yells of anguish, than the most piercing screaming...
Dead silence.
Literally dead.

And now I am sitting in the graveyard, staring at two headstones, and feeling good and bad at the same time. The way we do when our own lives continue to unfold, but the lives that gave us life and others that gave our lives meaning have ended.

it does seem
the more we drink
the better the words
go.

I feel no grief for being called something
which
I am not;
in fact, it's enthralling, somehow, like a good
back rub

I wanted something that would address the strengths and weaknesses of humanity. I wanted a story that could move readers. My Honor Flight is that story.