Quotes about death-and-dying

Time doesn’t heal all wounds. We both know that’s bullshit it comes from people who have nothing comforting or original to say.

But dying people don't need to be reminded that they're dying I feel they need to be reminded that they're still very much alive.

Character isn't something you talk about it's something you show through your actions-through your every day habits.

character isn’t something you talk about it’s something you show through your actions—through your every day habits.

Things in Arizona don’t just die they bake and fry in the heat until there is nothing left.

As for dying we can only assay that once we are all apprentices when it comes to that

Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.

It’s just another stop on the curvy roadthe final encounterfor the man who has liveddeath is the answer.

Each man lives in his own universe and when he dies the world is over

Growing older is a blurred birth certificate that only can take us to this world’s perplexed journey, but it cannot smear the letters of the epitaph

People tend to think that death is absolute, the one thing we can all be certain about, but that’s not the case. Death is complex. It’s powerful and timeless. The truth is, when it comes to death, nothing is impossible.

I haven’t been able to pray with the same unquestioned simplicity of hope since Dustin passed. My childhood ended the day my brother died. The naive hope that a miracle would save him, that he would one day walk, that a disease was a blessing in my family – that hope died with him.

Life is the only thing which can never be replaced when lost.

I suppose each of us has his own fantasy of how he wants to die. I would like to go out in a blaze of glory, myself, or maybe simply disappear someday, far out in the heart of the wilderness I love, all by myself, alone with the Universe and whatever God may happen to be looking on. Disappear - and never return. That's my fantasy.

You’re too much of a bitch to go gently into that good night.”“You should put that on a greeting card.

I replayed the moment I first saw him at the picnic throughout our years together. As corny as it may sound, from the first glance we shared near the cake stand at the picnic, the two of us remained connected like the icing on one of those made from scratch cakes...

Do what is right and what is good." -- Bryeison to Alasdair before going to his death on the battlefield.

A carpenter is hired- a roof repaired, a porch built. Everything that can be fixed. June, July, August. Everyday we hear their laughter. I think of the painting by van Gogh, the man in the chair. Everything wrong, and nowhere to go. His hands over his eyes.

It's nice to see how the suffering goes away in time. It always does

When we ponder the vastness of the universe and eternity, we are closer to understanding the role of death in the mysterious life we are all experiencing. Through these realizations, greater acceptance of the inevitability of death positions us to be happier in our lives. After my journey through these ideas I feel strongly that happiness and a deeper understanding of death are linked phenomena that offer a fuller existence.

When you lose someone untimely; all left is never ending guilt, fear, and pain.

When you loose someone untimely; all left is never ending guilt, fear, and pain.

The loss of a loved one is like the loss of a part of oneself; an arm or a leg. At first, the pain is so physical that it is hard to ignore. The trauma is so intense that the mind finds it hard to cope with the loss. With time the pain eases, the body recovers and the brain figures out new ways to go on.

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 fear-ridden, irreversible release lingers in the doorway, but hesitates for reasons we don't understand, leaving us to weep with a mixture of angst and gratitude all at the same time. It is finally ushered all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Be

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

You can get over a million dollars worth of life insurance in case you die, but only eight to ten bucks and hour to live

... after daybreak is when I will already have died. At that moment I will only know of beautiful things: the certainties, the desires. When the sun bathes me, I will be something else: without mirrors, without sadness. I will have passed away, but will have been reborn. I will whistle mellifluous melodies. Discredited but, in the end, light.

I always have a fear of loosing Love ones. Even if I don't want to see this happen, I will have to face the bitter truth sooner or later.

Don't cry after my death, I won't know it.Love me when I am alive.

Death, like so much in life, is a lesson, which must be understood and cherished, not feared; it is a rite of passage we all must encounter at one time or another; it helps build our character and makes us stronger if we can endure its painful aftermath.

The aim of all life is death. Life is the apprenticeship that we serve preparing for death. Life is the fleeting spark of divinity that precedes a deathless eternity.

My life is never influenced by death because I am full of resurrections after so many spiritual and emotional demises

Memories are of the ethereal, and not the material world, that is how I know I am forever.

If you lived a good life, you either lived to save or died to save… that which must be saved and kept. Your life would never be meaningless. Not even for a moment.

With every breath you take, someone just took their last. Stop complaining about life. It has given you much more than what you appreciate.

If we don't think about our death until we die, how can we decide how we want to live?

Remember, you are as dispensable as the most indispensable king of kings, the mighty lord of silly worldly men.

Live joyfully this life. Once gone, who knows if we ever get it back. Atheists think we do not. Mystics say you will. Either way, chill.

Till the time Mother Nature takes away what she had bestowed upon us for free - this wonderful gift, of life. Value it, while you have it.

It is no use dying, before one does.

After you die, a rare friend or family member may carry your memory throughout life. Most will forget you. As if you were never here.

The Bravest Thing I Ever Did Was Continuing My Life When I Wanted To Die.

The best gift your true friends will ever give you is carry your casket with respect. So be good to those you consider exceptional.

What passing bells for these who die as cattle?Only the monstrous anger of the guns.Only the stuttering rifle's rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries now for them; no prayers, nor bells,Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,The shrill demented choirs of wailing shells,And bugles calling for them from sad shires.What candles may be held to speed them all?Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes,Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.The pallor of girls' brows shall

It doesn't make a damned bit of difference who wins the war to someone who's dead.

This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War. Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

There is only one God and all atheists will learn that after their deaths

There’s no such thing as negative energy on the spiritual plane. It is an illusion. All negative energy comes from the ego. What we call negative experiences are only contradictions of the human ego’s belief…how we think we want things to be. When we can’t control, or when things don’t work as we expect, we think it is negative. It is not, it just is.

Souls are flowers, only God has the right to pluck them. But those who commit suicide: their souls are the rotten blossoms of devil's garden.

To the wizard death is merely a belief.

The music echoes in the emptiness. It reminds us where we came from and where we’re bound.

I’m not afraid of death, just of dying.

I can’t bear the thought of oblivion, Asriel,” she continued. “Sooner anything than that. I used to think pain would be worse—to be tortured forever—I thought that must be worse . . . But as long as you were conscious, it would be better, wouldn’t it? Better than feeling nothing, just going into the dark, everything going out forever and ever?

I make a joke of it, but... but I'm afraid of death." He straightened up and turned to look into Joseph's eyes. Joseph saw the fear there and was shocked by the intensity of it. "Are you afraid to die, Joseph?" Joseph considered for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not afraid to now, but then I'm not dying now. When I come to that moment, I will probably be... what's the right word? Maybe frightened in a way that you're frightened when an experience lies before you you've never had. "No more

It is this, not the spirits, that frightens us; shall we never be free, even after we die?

For years afterward, I had dreams in which my mother appeared in strange forms, her features sewn onto other beings in combinations that seemed both grotesque and profound: as a slippery white fish at the end of my hook, with a trout’s gaping, sorrowful mouth and her dark, shuttered eyes; as the elm tree at the edge of our property, its ragged clumps of tarnished gold leaves replaced by knotted skeins of her black hair; as the lame gray dog that lived on the Mueller’s property, whose mouth, her

Dreams, just dreams, it's all illusion

Dying is a universe of its own. 

I touch you knowing we weren't born tomorrow,and somehow, each of us will help the other live,and somewhere, each of us must help the other die.

If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.

We are all dying one by one. We all smell of mortality, and we can't wash it off.

Heaven is a place where all the dogs you've ever loved come to greet you.

Pain, unless it is physical, was sold to you (by your culture).

Death is a bored clerk, with too many orders to fill. There is no reckoning. No profound moment. It creeps up on us from behind, and snatches us away while we shit.

I wonder if my first breath was as soul-stirring to my mother as her last breath was to me. – From 14 Days: A Mother, A Daughter, A Two-Week Goodbye

She was made mostly of coffee and empty spaces.

I have a theory that as human beings get older, chemicals are released into the brain to prepare us for the end. Sort of like how the nurse lubes your ass up before the anus-cam. It makes the whole thing a lot easier to swallow. Easier, not enjoyable.

I think she might at least have waited till the funeral was over,' said Amanda in a scandalized voice.'It's her own funeral, you know,' said Sir Lulworth; 'it's a nice point in etiquette how far one ought to show respect to one's own mortal remains.' ("Laura")

Smrt je preseljenje iz kuće u kuću. To nije nestanak već drugo rođenje. Kao što prsne ljuska jajeta kad se pile potpuno razvije, tako dođe vrijeme da se rastave duša i tijelo. Smrt je nužnost u neizbježnosti prelaska u drugi svijet, u kome čovjek dostiže svoj puni uspon.

Death’s life should have listened to the moonly whispers of breathing in the coldest nights

This is how most stories end in the hospital. Not with crash carts and sirens and electric shocks to the chest, but with an empty room, a crisp white bed, silence.

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.

... [They] took it upon themselves to start the laborious process of cranking up life again, after death has stopped us all in its tracks.

I am not ready to die,But I am learning to trust deathAs I have trusted life.I am movingToward a new freedom

What is it that dies? A log of wood dies to become a few planks. The planks die to become a chair. The chair dies to become a piece of firewood, and the firewood dies to become ash. You give different names to the different shapes the wood takes, but the basic substance is there always. If we could always remember this, we would never worry about the loss of anything. We never lose anything; we never gain anything. By such discrimination we put an end to unhappiness. (118-119)

Just as when we come into the world, when we die we are afraid of the unknown. But the fear is something from within us that has nothing to do with reality. Dying is like being born: just a change

People are fragile. They die of mistakes, of overdoses, of sickness. But mostly they die of Death.

He always thought that Touie's long illness would somehow prepare him for her death. He always imagined that grief anf guilt, if they followed, would be more clear-edged, more defined, more finite. Instead they seem like weather, like clouds constantly re-forming into new shapes, blown by nameless, unidentifiable winds.

Death was a lens that would reveal things as they really were: what was important would assume its true importance what was unimportant would recede into the shadows.

The erruption of feelings & emotions that follows a near-death exerience, or any event that causes us to stop & look deeply at the reality of our lives, is ripe with the potential for insight & clarity.

I guess I think differently than most folks. I think the reason the world is a mystical, enchanting place, is because of the cycle of life. My body will decompose, but maybe some little element of it will be transformed into a particle of dirt, over years and years,and then a glorious flower will be nurtured by this particle of dirt. Then this flower will nourish a random bumblebee, who in turn will be eaten by a raven. So, in some future life, I'll be able to fly. I look forward to that. I've a

There was no hope in death, only an end.

[HAMILTON]I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest.

Sometimes I think if I could do all the things that I stopped doing, meet all the friends that I left due to time, money and other unavoidable circumstances. Continue all my passions at least once. Then my life would be more justified than today. Then I could be finally at peace at the time I finally leave this world.

Death twitches my ear;'Live,' he says... 'I'm coming.

Life is a dream from which we all must wake before we can dream again.

Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the litt

The man consummatig his life dies his death triumphantly,surrounded by men filled with hope and making solmn vows, thus one should learn to die.Friedrich Nietzsche - thus spoke zarathustra.

We feel most alive when we are closest to death.

If Christ is God, He cannot sin, and if suffering was a sin in and by itself, He could not have suffered and died for us. However, since He took the most horrific death to redeem us, He showed us in fact that suffering and pain have great power.

MOMWholeheartedly,She loved me-And inspired me-With transcending devotion.It was a blessing-To have been her son,To have been loved-Without conditions.Her words of wisdom-Opened my eyes-To the world-And to myself.By seeing the best in me, She empowered me.By believing in me, She transformed me.She grew old-And floated away,But her love remains standing-Eternally by my side.

My God, if I had a heart, I would write my hate on ice, and wait for the sun to show.

Grief, no matter how you try to cater to its wail, has a way of fading away.

It's harder to pick and choose when you're dead. It's like a photograph, you know. It doesn't matter as much.

The biggest magic of the world is DEATH.

Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without

Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.