13,737 Quotes About Death

Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone—Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still. [...]

When we mourn those who die young – those who have been robbed of time – we weep for lost joys. We weep for opportunities and pleasure we ourselves have never known. We feel sure that somehow that young body would have known the yearning delight for which we searched in vain all our lives. We believe that the untried soul, trapped in its young prison, might have flown free and known the joy that we still seek.

The country people, indeed, did not always clearly distinguish between the Fairies and the dead. They called them both the 'Silent People'; and the Milky Way they thought was the path along which the dead were carried to Fairyland.

Sólo yo entiendo lo lejos que está el cielo de nosotros; pero conozco cómo acortar las veredas. Todo consiste en morir, Dios mediante, cuando uno quiera y no cuando Él lo disponga. O, si tú quieres, forzarlo a disponer antes de tiempo.

When the rich give a party and the meal is finished, a man carries round amongst the guests a wooden image of a corpse in a coffin, carved and painted to look as much like the real thing as possible, and anything from 18 inches to 3 foot long; he shows it to each guest in turn, and says: "Look upon this body as you drink and enjoy yourself; for you will be just like it when you are dead."[Herodotus ‘Histories’, II 82]

It's not what I'd want for at my funeral. When I die, I just want them to plant me somewhere warm. And then when the pretty women walk over my grave I would grab their ankles, like in that movie.

a penny for my thoughts oh no i'll sell em for a dollar their worth so much more after im a goner and then maybe you'll hear the words ive been singing funny when your dead how people start listening

No poet is ever really young... Their delicate ears always hear the far-off whisper of death, which coarser souls must travel towards for years before their duller senses touch....

You’re not going to disappear,” I said. “I won’t let you”.“Even if this is all there is? Going to school and working at my uncle’s restaurant and fighting with Mari? Why would anyone want to remember this?”“I want to remember you. Just like this.”She rolled onto her back, hands covering her face, and I pulled them away.“People like you don’t disappear,” I said.“Then where do they go?”“Everywhere.