Death Quotes
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I write horror because I enjoy it. I'm endlessly fascinated by the supernatural, by death, by darkness. And, to be honest, I don't have much choice. This is the way my mind works.
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I can remember how when I was young I believed death to be a phenomenon of the body; now I know it to be merely a function of the mind -- and that of the minds who suffer the bereavement. The nihilists say it is the end; the fundamentalists, the beginning; when in reality it is no more than a single tenant or family moving out of a tenement or a town.
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Though death be a dark passage; it leads to immortality, and that is recompense enough for suffering of it. And yet faith lights us, even through the grave....And this is the comfort of the good, and the grave cannot hold them, and they live as they die. For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.
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What is found now is found then. If you find nothing now, you will simply end up with an apartment in the City of Death.
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Even Rome cannot grant us a dispensation from death.
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My whole life has been nothing more than a continuous struggle against Reaction and the death of art.
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Death mattered not - It was a mere puncutation.
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When the heart grows weary, all things seem dreary; When the burden grows heavy, the way seems long. Thank God for sending kind death as an ending, Like a grand Amen to a minor song.
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The worst your enemy can do is kill you. The worst your enemy can do is betray you. Fear only the indifferent because at their silent consent treachery and death flourish.
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Seemeth it nothing to you, never to accuse, never to blame either God or Man? to wear ever the same countenance in going forth as in coming in? This was the secret of Socrates: yet he never said that he knew or taught anything... Who amongst you makes this his aim? Were it indeed so, you would gladly endure sickness, hunger, aye, death itself. (85).
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Whenever I receive death announcements, I consistently notice that a kind of emotion grips me and I feel astonished disbelief. It is as though the departed had passed a difficult examination and achieved something I had not believed him capable of.
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The death of kings can be recited, but not of one's child.
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Sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
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It's important for Christians to understand that if this event of the forbidden fruit was not history, then the Fall itself would not be literal. This would also mean that Christ's death on the cross would be meaningless.
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We know that death never skips or spares anybody and that no one ever returns. And yet we go on like the blind, who see as little at midday as in the pitch-dark night. We do not take these examples to heart; we do not realize that today or tomorrow our turn will come.
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For death betimes is comfort, not dismay, and who can rightly die needs no delay.
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Flying is hypnotic and all pilots are victims to the spell. Their world is like a magic island in which the factors of life and death assume their proper values. Thinking becomes clear because there are no earthly foibles or embellishments to confuse it.
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And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.
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A man must always have the final choice in life and in death. Anything else can be taken from him, but never that.
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There is no way to escape death, it is just like trying to escape by four great mountains touching sky. There is no escape from these four mountains of birth, old age, sickness and death.
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For example, colon cancer is the second leading cause of cancer death in the United States. Every four minutes someone is diagnosed, and every nine minutes someone dies.
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Odd thing about death ... it reaffirms life.
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Human relationships didn't work anyhow. Only the first two weeks had any zing, then the participants lost their interest. Masks dropped away and real people began to appear: cranks, imbeciles, the demented, the vengeful, sadists, killers. Modern society had created its own kind and they feasted on each other. It was a duel to the death-in a cesspool.
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I told myself that in the country of my birth, from which I was disengaged in an increasingly irreversible way, there undoubtedly were many men and women like him, basically decent people who had dreamed all their lives of the economic, social, cultural, and political progress that would transform Peru into a modern, prosperous, democratic society with opportunities open to all, only to find themselves repeatedly frustrated, and, like Uncle Ataulfo, had reached old age - the very brink of death - bewildered, asking themselves why we were moving backward instead of advancing and were worse off now with more discrimination, inequality, violence, and insecurity than when they were starting out.
