13,737 Quotes About Death

We're all suicides. The tragedy is every day that we don't die.

It is clear that men accept an immediate pain rather than an immediate pleasure, but only because they expect a greater pleasure in the future. Often the pleasure is illusory, but their error in calculation is no refutation of the rule. You are puzzled because you cannot get over the idea that pleasures are only of the sense; but, child, a man who dies for his country dies because he likes it as surely as a man eats pickled cabbage because he likes it.

But, who is Death? A figure that harrows and wastes wherever and however it pleases. This is also a possible description of the Countess Bathory. Never did anyone wish so hard not to grow old; I mean, to die. That is why, perhaps, she acted and played the role of Death. Because, how can Death possibly die?

Тук няма да ви липсва някой полудял от любов, който в най-скоро време да ви предостави тази възможност." И докато го казваше, докторът си даде сметка, че измежду безбройните самоубийства с цианова сол, които помнеше, това е първото, чиято причина не е нещастна любов. Тогава нещо в обичайния му тон се промени.- А когато ви се предостави, обърнете внимание - каза той на стажанта медик: - Те обикновено имат пясък в сърцето.

The stillness and stasis of bed are the perfect opposite of travel: inertia is what I've come to consider the default mode, existentially and electronically speaking. Bed, its utter inactivity, offers a glimpse of eternity, without the drawback of being dead.

For, truly, the man who does not know when to die, does not know how to live.

I wished that my own bones were unbound, I wished they were mingling, picked clean by fish, with the bones of another body, a body my bones and heart and soul had loved with unfathomable certainty for decades, and both of us down deep now, lost to everything but the fact of bare bones on a dark seabed.

I'm going to die. And as if that weren't bad enough, I'm going to die inside a cake.

...beauty consists of its own passing, just as we reach for it. It's the ephemeral configuration of things in the moment, when you can see both their beauty and their death.