13,737 Quotes About Death

I don’t want to continue being Jorge Luis Borges; I want to be someone else. I hope that my death will be total; I hope to die in body and soul.

As fear runs through me I become acutely aware of a stillness. I don’t think I ever realized that there is a stillness in darkness. It feels as if fear and freedom are the same. I wonder if death holds this kind of infinite silence and solitude.

The dead’s are more at peace to the living! Death is fear better living when tomorrow is not guaranteed

Like wealth discrepancies, mortality rates provide a rough indication of relative freedom, and when social classes die at radically different rates from one another, some are obviously less free. An important part of freedom is not having to make sacrifices for people who don't have to make sacrifices for you.

Why did they kill it? Man can't stand to let something beautiful and pure, a thing on wings, pass over him. He hates everything that soars, and everything that sings. It seemed to me this swan is the very image of my dream, and my dream is dead.

My Dear,Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover.-Falsely yours

Equivocamos esa paz con la muertey creemos anhelar nuestro finy anhelamos el sueno y la indiferencia.(We mistake peace for deathand we believe we long for our endwhen what we long for is sleep and indifference.)

The sleeping pills in her pillowcase, the dark blank in her blanket, her purse lips purple; she disappears, she disappears. Her fears cuddle warm beside, to tears that went dry in the beat of her heart's drum. The strum, strum, stern in her veins, she breaks free finally floating to her lost rhythm of peace.

I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? “For beauty,” I replied. “And I for truth,—the two are one; We brethren are,” he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.