Inner Life Decay

Table of Contents

• The Tragedy of Wasted Life
• Life and Death Interconnectedness
• Death as a Release or Escape
• The Inevitability of Death
• Regret and Lost Potential
• Life's Struggles and Pain
• Purpose and Meaning in Life
• Death and Memory
• Life as an Ongoing Journey
• Philosophical Reflections on Life and Death
• Other

The Tragedy of Wasted Life

The tragedy in life to mourn over is the death of what lies within a person who is still alive. The death of a potential is a mess of destiny!

The greatest of tragedies is a life lived without knowing its purpose. Discover your purpose and life will take on a new meaning.

Death is not a tragedy to the one who dies; to have wasted the life before that death, that is the tragedy.

The tragedy of life is not death, but fearing to live, allowing parts of us to wilt and die instead of flower and rejoice.

Death is only tragic if you have tragically wasted your life on meaninglessness.

The tragedy in a man’s life is what dies inside of him while he lives.

The greatest tragedies in life is not untimely death, but to live a life for emptiness

The tragedy of a life that is never fully lived is not simply the loss of that one life. The tragedy is the endless number of lives that would have been forever changed if we had chosen to live differently.

The tragedy is not to die, but to be wasted.

The greatest tragedy in life is not death, but a life without a purpose.

The greatest tragedy is not death, but life without purpose.

The greatest tragedy in life is not death; the greatest tragedy takes place when our talents and capabilities are underutilized and allowed to rust while we are living.

Life and Death Interconnectedness

life's not a paragraphAnd death i think is no parenthesis

Death, is a beautiful conclusion to these short stories, that which we have so interestingly entitled, lives.

Life is a series of deaths and resurrections, losses and gains, pain and joy.

Life gets half of its beauty from death.

Life and Death is all about Swansong

There is life and death in all forest, the life will bring you beauty and the dead will bring you new life! Roland R Kemler

Loss and possession, death and life are one, There falls no shadow where there shines no sun.

Life is strewn with so many dangers, and can be the source of so many misfortunes, that death is not the greatest of them.

Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death be like autumn leaves. Rabindranath Tagore What a simple thing death is, just as simple as the falling of an autumn leaf.

Death and life were not Till man made up the whole, Made lock, stock and barrel Out of his bitter soul

What tender threads do life and death hang.

Death is the heritage of life; a man’s vitality is like air in a bladder. Poinct this bubble and away, away, away, flees life, like the color of fading dream.

Death as a Release or Escape

You have to die to become alive and that’s why tragedy seems so beautiful.

To die to escape from poverty or love or anything painful is not the mark of a brave man, but rather of a cowrd; for it is softness to fly from what is troublesome, and such a man endures death not because it is noble but to fly from evil

What is a man's life but a prelude to his death? And what is death but a long sleep, a most welcome forgetfulness.

Death destroys a man: the idea of Death saves him.

And I shall not fear the solitary fate of death,For as surely as we are born, the weight of death grows inside us all. But while there grows one true death, lives upon lives are collapsed within us, sleeping, folded as wings.

All things die,' she told him. Such a truism, it was the trite utterance of any street-corner philosopher, but coming from Inaspe Raimm it sounded different. 'All things reach the end of their journey, be they trees, insects, people or even principalities. All things die so that others may take their place. To die is no tragedy. The tragedy is dying with a purpose unfulfilled.

Death is what men want when the anguish of living is more than they can bear.

And the wild regrets and the bloody sweats None knew so well as I: That he who lives more lives than one, More deaths than one shall die.

Death has this much to be said for it: You don’t have to get out of bed for it. Wherever you happen to be They bring it to you – free. – Kingsley Amis.

Murderer or bartender or writer, it didn’t matter: his fate was the common fate of all, his finish my finish; and here tonight in this city of darkened windows were other millions like him and like me: as indistinguishable as dying blades of grass. Living was hard enough. Dying was a supreme task.

Man at his birth is supple and tender, but in death, he is rigid and hard. Thus, suppleness and tenderness accompany life, but rigidity and hardness accompany death.

Anyone, Eliza is thinking, who describes dying as ‘slipping away’ or ‘peaceful’ has never witnessed it happen. Death is violent, death is a struggle. The body clings to life, as ivy to a wall, and will not easily let go, will not surrender its grip without a fight.

The Inevitability of Death

Big drama of existence is not the death but never having began to live

The seeds of life - fiery is their force, divine their birth, but they are weighed down by the bodies' ills or dulled by limbs and flesh that's born for death. That is the source of all men's fears and longings, joys and sorrows, nor can they see the heaven's light, shut up in the body's tomb, a prison dark and deep.

Each of us finds the world of death fitted to himself

The ultimate meaning to which all stories refer has two faces: the continuity of life, the inevitability of death.

Let us imagine a number of men in chains and all condemned to death, where some are killed each day in the sight of the others, and those who remain see their own fate in that of their fellows and wait their turn, looking at each other sorrowfully and without hope. It is an image of the condition of man.

One may live as a conqueror, a king, or a magistrate; but he must die a man. The bed of death brings every human being to his pure individuality, to the intense contemplation of that deepest and most solemn of all relations - the relations between the creature and his Creator.

Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.

It is axiomatic that one death is a tragedy, a thousand is a statistic.

Death is not a disaster. Too many births – that is the real disaster.

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have.

That’s part of what I like about the book in some ways. It portrays death truthfully. You die in the middle of your life, in the middle of a sentence.

Yet he thought, if I die saying ” Life is beautiful”, then nothing else is important.

Regret and Lost Potential

The greatest tragedy is not death but a life without love

This is life, in all its gruesome, lovely, neon-lit glory.

Always a frail mind,to Live,I must act this inevitable play of life:'The LIving Death',the deranging and perplexing dreams are in it! Ah!let me not exit the World's STAGE, in silence, leaving the Nature's serene music,my Muse and the Beauty of MANYImaginary dreams.

The tragedy of a life that is never fully lived is not simply the loss of that one life. The tragedy is the endless number of lives that would have been forever changed if we had chosen to live differently.

In deference to such spectacular carnage it is perhaps perverse to dwell upon one person's death, but we are creatures so constituted that the passing of one friend or one acquaintance has a profounder effect that that of 100,000 strangers. If there is any metaphorical truth in the Jewish proverb that he who saves one life saves the whole world, then there is equal metaphorical truth in the proposition that when one person dies, the whole world dies with them.

For I say this is death and the sole death,- When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest.

The tragedy of life is in what dies inside a man while he lives - the death of genuine feeling, the death of inspired response, the awareness that makes it possible to feel the pain or the glory of other men in yourself.

Precisely in an age when the inviolable rights of the person are solemnly proclaimed and the value of life is publicly affirmed, the very right to life is being denied or trampled upon, especially at the more significant moments of existence: the moment of birth and the moment of death.

We construct our lives for one person, and when at length it is ready to receive her that person does not come; presently she is dead to us, and we live on, prisoners within the walls which were intended only for her.

The whole motley confusion of acts, omissions, regrets and hopes which is the life of each one of us finds in death, not meaning or explanation, but an end.

Anyone who cannot cope with life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand he can jot down what he sees among the ruins, for he sees different and more things than the others; after all, he is dead in his own lifetime and the real survivor.

There are three sayings I live by, and one of them is ‘The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.’ That’s what losing a job is like. That’s why we have to bring them back.

Life's Struggles and Pain

Keep your words. This pain is no life." "You only feel pain because you're alive, boy!" the keeper thundered. "This is the mystery of it. Life is lived on the ragged edge of the cliff. Fall off and you might die, but run from it and you are already dead!

With mind distracted, never thinking, "Death is coming,"To slave away on the pointless business of mundane life,And then to come out empty--it is a tragic error. (116)trans by Robert Thurman

Life is a struggle, from the agonies of birth to the railing against death. Devour or be devoured. The law of the wild.

Everything in life tries to hit us hard. We feel like dying. But instead fight back hard to survive. After all surviving was the only aim of everything." - Vishnu Kanchan

For mankind you've made your wintry bed.A shipwreck of your own mortality

The tragedy in a man’s life is what dies inside of him while he lives.

[…] life is just the misery left between abortion and euthanasia […]

The wise man looks at death with honesty, dignity and calm, recognizing that the tragedy it brings is inherent in the great gift of life.

Low-sunk life imagines itself weary of life, but it is death, not life, it is weary of.

Murderer or bartender or writer, it didn’t matter: his fate was the common fate of all, his finish my finish; and here tonight in this city of darkened windows were other millions like him and like me: as indistinguishable as dying blades of grass. Living was hard enough. Dying was a supreme task.

Every note played is a life and death.

Anyone, Eliza is thinking, who describes dying as ‘slipping away’ or ‘peaceful’ has never witnessed it happen. Death is violent, death is a struggle. The body clings to life, as ivy to a wall, and will not easily let go, will not surrender its grip without a fight.

Purpose and Meaning in Life

It has been remarked (by a lady infinitely cleverer than the present author) how kindly disposed the world in general feels to young people who either die or marry. Imagine then the interest that surrounded Miss Wintertowne! No young lady ever had such advantages before: for she died upon the Tuesday, was raised to life in the early hours of Wednesday morning, and was married upon the Thursday; which some people thought too much excitement for one week.

The study of philosophy represents an extended mediation on death. The study of literature teaches us that life is absurd, because humankind possesses the foreknowledge that we each owe a death. It is the poets, persons vested with divine inspiration, whom teach us how to live, by boldly experiencing and dutifully recording all the vibrant sensations of life.

Ars moriendi ars vivendi est: the art of dying is the art of living.

Being helpless can cause a man an early death," Enki said sourly, "But the others will be back for us soon and then it'll be all over.

Death or Samadhi, man's life leads only to the grave. Appreciate your life.

Birth is to celebrate, death is to mourn - Menu 8 (Death: Loved Ones!)

I believe the biggest themes of life are put into the best focus when held up against the very sharp light of mortality.

Death is the great Maecenas, Death is the great angel of writing. You must write because you are not going to live any more.

You have been asked to take notice of the sayings of dying men—this is mine: that a life spent in the service of God and communion with Him is the most pleasant life that anyone can live in this world.

Life means opportunity, and the thing men call death is the last wonderful, beautiful adventure.

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die - whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness.

You have been asked to take notice of the sayings of dying men – this is mine: that a life spent in the service of God and communion with Him is the most pleasant life that anyone can live in this world.

Death and Memory

This was the first time I thought of S— that day. Her music was beautiful, her voice was beautiful, her body was beautiful. Even the dirty little pads of her feet were beautiful. I cursed myself then. For once, heaven had sent me Beauty in its most perfected form and I abandoned it. She might not have been a girl after all but an angel: a force to guide me on this hazardous path of life I hurry down. How can life be hazardous if it can only end in death?

Memories; it's not death what kills a man, it is memories; The man who lives long enough to carry the burden of life, dies a long time ago before his heart stops

In the life of everyone there is a limited number of experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in the long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies of life.

Death is misery! The lifeless person was once full of life.

Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.

If a man dies of cancer in fear and despair, then cry for his pain and celebrate his life. The other man, who fought like hell and laughed in the end, but also died, may have had an easier time in his final months, but took his leave with no more humanity.

In life, we weep at the thought of death. In death, perhaps we weep at the thought of life.

Loss is essential. Loss is part and parcel of that necessary calamity called life.

The birds of the air die to sustain thee; the beasts of the field die to nourish thee; the fishes of the sea die to feed thee. Our stomachs are their common sepulchre. Good God! with how many deaths are our poor lives patched up! how full of death is the life of momentary man!

He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend: Eternity mourns that. 'Tis an ill cure For life's worst ills to have no time to feel them.

The artist ought to know that a thousand painful deaths always lead into greater life.

Human life has sorrow;” “They who meet must part;” “He that is born must die;.

Life as an Ongoing Journey

Of course, in a novel, people’s hearts break, and they die, and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us. There is a most busy and important round of eating, drinking, dressing, walking, visiting, buying, selling, talking, reading, and all that makes up what is commonly called living, yet to be gone through…

Life and death- what paltry words, what tarnished bookends,what unjust summation for drawing breath one moment and failing to release it the next.

Death is complicated."-Johann Kraus

It's not life or death, the labyrinth. Suffering. Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you.

The greatest loss is the loss of life.

at man’s height the mouth utters its cries, tosses forth its oracles, gives vent to its puns. To allow words to come to life, bare themselves, and show us by chance, for the space of a lightning bolt bony with dice, a few of our reasons for living and dying

Tragedy is funny.""Are we in a tragedy?" he asks, smiling broadly now."Of course. Isn't that what life is? We all die at the end.

It was from an old friend who thought he was dying. Anyway, he said, 'Life and death issues don't come along that often, thank God, so don't treat everything like it's life or death. Go easier.'

Life is not a tragedy, it is a comedy. To be alive means to have a sense of humor.

Life is every bit as devious as Death. It too can wear a hooded coat. It too can slip into town, lurk in an alley, or wait in the back of a tavern.

In the midst of life we are in death,‘” said Miss Ophelia.

When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in such a manner that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.

Philosophical Reflections on Life and Death

It is only when one faces death, observed one of the men there, that one realises the great value of life.

Dying was misery. Death was that period at the end of the sentence.

That’s part of what I like about the book in some ways. It portrays death truthfully. You die in the middle of your life, in the middle of a sentence

Always a frail mind,to Live,I must act this inevitable play of life:'The LIving Death',the deranging and perplexing scenes are in it! Ah!let me not exit the World's STAGE, in silence, leaving the Nature's serene music,my Muse and the Beauty of MANYImaginary dreams.

And the world said, Child, you will not be missed. You are cheaper than a wrench, your back is a road; Your death is a table in a book. You had our wit, our heart was sealed to you: Man is the judgment of the world.

The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.

With mind distracted, never thinking, "Death is coming," To slave away on the pointless business of mundane life, And then to come out empty--it is a tragic error. (116) trans by Robert Thurman

Death is beautiful when seen to be a law, and not an accident. It is as common as life.

We can only begin to live when we conceive life as Tragedy.

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die – whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness.

And Life is Colour and Warmth and Light and a striving evermore for these; and he is dead, who will not fight; and who dies fighting has increase.

Life is impermanent and in the face of that impermanence, cavort! Look death in the eye, tell him you’re as cute as a button, flash a little deviant guile his way, and tell him to go feast on somebody’s else’s sweet flesh.

Other

Death is rendered tragic when it finds us having expended ourselves in the endeavor of having lived for ourselves. For when it finds us at the end of such a life as this, it finds us in the company of no one other than ourselves. And that alone may be worse than death itself.

Life is the death of all of us.' - Tristan

One may live as a conqueror, a king, or a magistrate; but he must die a man. The bed of death brings every human being to his pure individuality, to the intense contemplation of that deepest and most solemn of all relations – the relations between the creature and his Creator.

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. – NORMAN COUSINS.

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