Death Quotes

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The Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea are made of the same water. It flows down, clean and cool, from the heights of Herman and the roots of the cedars of Lebanon. the Sea of Galilee makes beauty of it, the Sea of Galilee has an outlet. It gets to give. It gathers in its riches that it may pour them out again to fertilize the Jordan plain. But the Dead Sea with the same water makes horror. For the Dead Sea has no outlet. It gets to keep.

Death destroys a man, the idea of Death saves him.
It hath often been said that it is not death but dying that is terrible.
We all have to die some day, if we live long enough.
But learn that to die is a debt we must all pay.
Remember man as you walk by, as you are now so once was I, as I am now, so you will be, so prepare for death and follow me.
I'm trying to die correctly, but it's very difficult, you know.
He was exhaled; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
All human things are subject to decay, and when fate summons, monarchs must obey.
Life is a series of diminishments. Each cessation of an activity either from choice or some other variety of infirmity is a death, a putting to final rest. Each loss, of friend or precious enemy, can be equated with the closing off of a room containing blocks of nerves and soon after the closing off the nerves atrophy and that part of oneself, in essence, drops away. The self is lightened, is held on earth by a gram less of mass and will.
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.
I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to be dead, but win me, and overcome me. When I must shipwreck, I would do it in a sea, where mine impotency might have some excuse; not in a sullen weedy lake, where I could not have so much as exercise for my swimming.
When I die I want to decompose in a barrel of porter and have it served in all the pubs in Dublin.
The infant runs toward it with its eyes closed, the adult is stationary, the old man approaches it with his back turned.
He would make a lovely corpse.
Death doesn't frighten me.
Few cross the river of time and are able to reach non-being. Most of them run up and down only on this side of the river. But those who when they know the law follow the path of the law, they shall reach the other shore and go beyond the realm of death.
I am not the least afraid to die.
Death is the liberator of him whom freedom cannot release, the physician of him whom medicine cannot cure, and the comforter of him whom time cannot console.
An orphan's curse would drag to hell, a spirit from on high; but oh! more horrible than that, is a curse in a dead man's eye!
I have a piece of great and sad news to tell you: I am dead.
We are not victims of aging, sickness and death. These are part of scenery, not the seer, who is immune to any form of change. This seer is the spirit, the expression of eternal being.
He had been, he said, an unconscionable time dying; but he hoped that they would excuse it.
What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you.
Death eats up all things, both the young lamb and old sheep; and I have heard our parson say, death values a prince no more than a clown; all's fish that comes to his net; he throws at all, and sweeps stakes; he's no mower that takes a nap at noon-day, but drives on, fair weather or foul, and cuts down the green grass as well as the ripe corn: he's neither squeamish nor queesy-stomach d, for he swallows without chewing, and crams down all things into his ungracious maw; and you can see no belly he has, he has a confounded dropsy, and thirsts after men's lives, which he gurgles down like mother's milk.
Tis the maddest trick a man can ever play in his whole life, to let his breath sneak out of his body without any more ado, and without so much as a rap o'er the pate, or a kick of the guts; to go out like the snuff of a farthing candle, and die merely of the mulligrubs, or the sullens.
Along with the lazy man... the dying man is the immoral man: the former, a subject that does not work; the latter, an object that no longer even makes itself available to be worked on by others.
He who is obsessed by death is made guilty by it.
For days after death hair and fingernails continue to grow, but phone calls taper off.
Men are never really willing to die except for the sake of freedom: therefore they do not believe in dying completely.
There is nothing which at once affects a man so much and so little as his own death.
The dead should be judged like criminals, impartially, but they should be allowed the benefit of the doubt.
To die is but to leave off dying and do the thing once for all.
All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.
For 'Tis not in mere death that men die most.
Death is the cure for all diseases.
We all labor against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases.
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
No one's death comes to pass without making some impression, and those close to the deceased inherit part of the liberated soul and become richer in their humanness.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. [1 Corinthians 15:26]