Quotessence
Home / Topics / Death And Dying Quotes

Death And Dying Quotes

Browse 803 quotes about Death And Dying.

Related topics

DiesSomeone DyingLife And DeathMenKnowsDying LoveIfsLife DeathFear Of DeathSomeone Who Is DyingLifePeopleDo Not Fear DeathHappy DeathDiedEndsFear Of DyingSpiritualThinking

Death And Dying Quotes

“Fran had from an unsuitably early age been attracted by the heroic death, the famous last words, the tragic farewell. Her parents had on their shelves a copy of Brewer's 'Dictionary of Phase and fable', a book which, as a teenager, she would morbidly browse for hours. One of her favourite sections was 'Dying Sayings', with its fine mix of the pious, the complacent, the apocryphal, the bathetic and the defiant. Artists had fared well: Beethoven was alleged to have said 'I shall hear in heaven'; the erotic painter Etty had declared 'Wonderful! Wonderful this death!'; and Keats had died bravely, generously comforting his poor friend Severn. Those about to be executed had clearly had time to prepare a fine last thought, and of these she favoured the romantic Walter Raleigh's, 'It matters little how the head lies, so the heart be right'. Harriet Martineau, who had suffered so much as a child from religion, as Fran had later discovered, had stoically remarked, 'I see no reason why the existence of Harriet Martineau should be perpetuated', an admirably composed sentiment which had caught the child Fran's attention long before she knew who Harriet Martineau was. But most of all she had liked the parting of Siward the Dane who had commended his men: 'Lift me up that I may die standing, not lying down like a cow'.”

Death And DyingFamous Last Words
Book:The Dark Flood Rises
Create image

“You smell nice,’ she said. ‘Chanel,’ he said. ‘Wasted on you,’ she said and he reached into his bag and pulled out an almond tart. ‘Look what I’ve got,’ he said triumphantly as he lowered it under her nose. ‘Almonds,’ she said, ‘just like Paris.’ ‘For us to share,’ he said, ‘just like Paris.’ I never knew if she had any real appetite or not for she hadn’t eaten solids for days. But he broke a piece off and held it to her mouth and she ate hungrily for it was the memory she was tasting again and the memory tasted good. I moved a chair close to the bed for him and he sat down and held her hand. his own death he’d made peace with years ago but everyone else’s still frightened him and so he held her hand to not let her go. He held her hand because he wasn’t ready to let her go.”

FriendshipMemoriesLossGriefDeath And DyingSarah WinmanWhen God Was A Rabbit
Book:When God Was a Rabbit
Create image

“It's... no, nothing." She grunted, turning from the screen with her vodka. "I'm starting to think Morris is right. We're just f---ed. Us, Colby, the whole human race." "Maybe," Teagan said noncommittally. "Some days I believe that. I look at this f---ed up bloody world and see we don't be needing the likes of monster-gods with unpronounceable names to come and do the job for us. We do just fine screwing ourselves, don't we?”

Death And DyingHumanity And SocietyWorld Is A Dangerous Place
Book:Chills
Create image

“Have you ever taken yourself a bit too seriously, thinking that who you are is actually defined by what you look like, how much talent you have (or don't have), how well known you are (or aren't), or how much money you have (or don't have)? Those are all "garments and labels" you wear during the course of your stay here on this planet, but it's not who you are. At the end of the day, when it's all said and done, you will turn all of that back in just like a car you had on lease.”

TalentAuthenticityDeath And DyingGifts Of The SpiritSelf Definition
Book:The Art of Being: 101 Ways to Practice Purpose in Your Life
Create image

“No person can escape the germs of their eventual deterioration and destruction. A round-table of physical breakdown and death awaits the rich person and the poor person, as well as the common people and world leaders. The skulls of noble men and savages alike litter the streets of ancient cities. Modern humans live longer than the ancient people did, but eventually we all succumb to the same wretched infirmities.”

DeathSufferingIllnessDeath And DyingSuffering QuoteSuffering Of HumanitySuffering Life
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
Create image

“A principled life begins by accepting the evident truth that we must die. Death becomes us. Knowledge of the impermanence of our existence reassures us that how we live does make a difference. Because our allotted time for living is finite, we must make the most of each day.”

DeathMeaningfulLife And DeathDeath And DyingDeath QuotesPurpose Driven LifePurposeful LivingPurpose QuotesPurpose In LifeMeaningfulnessMeaningful LivingPurposeful JourneyMeaningful QuoteMeaningful Life QuoteDeath And Dying Quotes
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
Create image

“If you had one last breath - what would you say? If you had one hour to use your limbs before you would lose the use of them forever - would you sit there on the coach? If you knew that you wouldn't see tomorrow who would you make amends with? If you knew you had only an hour left on this earth - what would be so pressing that you just had to do it, say it, or see it? Well there is something that I can guarantee - that one day you will have one day, one hour and one breath left. Just make sure that before that day that you have said, done and experienced everything that you dream of doing now. Do it now - that is what today is for. So pick up the phone and call an old friend that you have fallen out of touch with. Get out and run a mile and use your body and sweat. Seek out someone in your life to say your sorry to. Seek someone In your life that you need to thank. Seek someone in your life that you need to express your feelings of love to. Then when that day comes you will be ok with it all.”

Life LessonsDeath And DyingSaying SorrySaying I Love You
Author:John Passaro
Create image

“Then his fingers trembled on her ankle—tightened around her foot. His head shifted, turning toward her. With a growl, she crashed the poker down onto his head. His hand jerked. A gurgling noise arose, not from his throat but from his chest, from deep down, as if he were fighting for something. Struggling. His eyes shifted toward her. Joan raised the poker again. The gurgling stopped—not abruptly but in a final, lingering, prolonged, exhalation of breath. His lungs gradually expelled every last atom of oxygen.”

AngerMurderDeath And DyingSelf DefenseViolent DeathFinal Breath
Book:Donor 23
Create image

“Some doctors who specialize in the care of geriatric patients have told me that there are rare occasions when they have heard a very old, sick, and frail person announce, “I’m going to die today.” And the individual did. But it doesn’t happen often.”

DeathSuicideAgingOld AgeDeath And DyingEuthanasiaGeriatric
Book:Final Exit: The Practicalities of Self-Deliverance and Assisted Suicide for the Dying
Create image

“Feeling numb means you've lost someone dear… and you're trying to work out what life will be like… without them near.”

Grief And LossDeath And DyingPicture BooksChildren S EmotionsFamily LossChildren S Mental HealthBereavement ChildrenChildren Coping With LossChildren S Grief BooksPicture Books About Grief
Book:I Can't Believe They're Gone: A kid's grief book that hugs, helps, and gives hope
Create image

“The Edge of Reason by Stewart Stafford I do not want to die or take my own life, I cling to the outside of skyscraper metal, Thick, choking smoke rakes my shoulder, Scorching flames lash my back and legs. I showered, dressed and went to work, I arrived early, said hello, found my desk, Then the building shifted, smiles faded, Everything changed, and here we are. God, please take me quickly, I beg you, Bless my loved ones, I hope they understand, A Rorschach test for shocked rubberneckers, I let the air pressure suck me out and drop. The initial relief of vacating impossibility, Turns to violent buffeting in wind currents, Clothes ripped off as I spin, falling faster, Crowds point, the ground rushes towards me. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

SurvivalTragedyDisasterDeath And DyingSocial CommentaryWorld Trade CenterExistential CrisisSeptember 11thTwin Towers9 11 Poem
Author:Stewart Stafford
Create image

“Fading into the space between the times Since their last phrase to each other, Their love vocalized, But now the pain’s localized , It’s been fastened to the focal eye Of the absence in his voice, Closed captions of the passionate goodbye What was the last thing he’d said to her? It’s on the tip of her tongue, She can’t remember what she’d heard, Vowels ripped and consonants undone, Stuck in the space between words, Muted language that refuses to come The silence stands between them, Engulfed in a vast distance in time. She would trade in an instant, His syllables for the silence In the depths of her mind.”

PoetryDeath And DyingRhymesLosing Someone You LoveBereavement LossSpeechless QuoteLost For WordsSilent KillerSpace Between WordsDeath Of Silence
Book:Hourglass in Grace
Create image

“The Physician's Pageant by Stewart Stafford Can aught endure the masquerade Of this world's blindfolded night? Melancholy's strike doth calm the raving, As babes roused from stillbirth in fledgling light. We know that the womb doth wander, Around the body, causing ills without care, A pessary's charm doth anchor it in place again, As bait doth lure the quarry to the snare. Burn sulfur, rosemary, lavender and juniper, Or foul dung smoke to cleanse tainted rural air. Light aromatic torches in the playhouse and market, Let vile odours and miasmas in these spaces beware. Though ragged contagion and death still doth assail, God willing, some blessed souls still shalt prevail. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

ResilienceDeath And DyingHuman ConditionMedical HistoryPhilosophical PoetryDisease And DeathGothic PoetryHistorical PoetryShakespearean SonnetsRenaissance Poetry
Author:Stewart Stafford
Create image

“The doctor delivered a devastating diagnosis: a severe stroke with paralysis of the right side of her body, brought on by prolonged starvation. In the days that followed, Irina’s condition steadily deteriorated. The family took turns caring for her, carefully following every medical instruction, yet the decline was obvious. Within days, her left leg failed as well. She could no longer speak—only stare ahead in silent resignation. Whenever one of her loved ones approached her bedside, tears streamed soundlessly down her face. Now, sitting beside his grandmother’s pillow, Peter watched the boundless sorrow in her eyes as she looked at him. “Grandma, everything will be all right. You’ll recover,” the boy lied with all the gentleness he was capable of. “I love you.” He pressed his face to her chest and kissed her. Heavy tears rolled down Irina’s cheeks. A lump rose in Peter’s throat. He could not drive away the terrible thought: How could it be that only yesterday someone so alive, loving, and active—though ill—could so suddenly become a helpless ruin? It felt unnatural. It felt unjust. With each passing day, life faded from Irina. A week after the stroke, she died quietly in her sleep. At his grandmother’s funeral, Peter wept as he never had before—and never would again. He did not hide his tears. He kept kissing her cold lips, cheeks, and forehead. But each kiss only made the grief heavier. — Volodymyr Shablia, Stone. Book Three Context note: Set during the Holodomor of 1933 in Ukraine, this scene portrays one of the famine’s most tragic realities: the rapid decline and death of the elderly and the sick often among the first victims of starvation. Malnutrition weakened the body’s ability to survive illness, and strokes, infections, and organ failure became fatal in a society stripped of food and medical resources. Behind the statistics of millions dead were intimate family tragedies like this one.”

HungerIllnessGrief And LossHistorical FictionDeath And DyingElderlyUkraineFamily SagaHolodomorFamily Tragedy
Book:Камінь. Біографічний роман. Книга третя. Несправджені сподівання.: Все буде Голодомор.
Create image

“Dead Rite by Stewart Stafford While he lives, hope still clings, The hereafter remains a mystery, If life is but struggle and toil, Then death is hushed serenity. Things he treasured when alive, Trinkets to divide up as booty, The body still lying in repose, Nothing but a fading memory. Lay him down in a mossy grave, Heads bowed in a muttered eulogy, Then back away with platitudes, To the nearest exit from the cemetery. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

DeathGreedSelfishnessFuneralDeath And DyingUsersEulogyInsensitiveDeath PoemMourners
Author:Stewart Stafford
Create image

“The Feminine Enigma by Stewart Stafford Even lying in repose in her casket, Her aura still a billowing haze, A coffin lid no barrier to new facts, She came back on her funeral day. Creeping sentinels of perspective, Building up new memory mosaics, A spider's web of word and deed, Descending Prozac of the prosaic. The labyrinthine riddle is female, Females are perennially arcane, Puzzles that don't beg solutions, Evening stars of the astral plane. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

MemoriesFemaleFeminineFuneralDeath And DyingFemalesFuneralsMournersDeath Is Not The EndWomen Are Mystery
Author:Stewart Stafford
Create image

“The Weaveress squinted at the loom. While any other person would merely see a thickset of colour-flashing Threads, Ærinna saw cosmic events, destinies and the collective soul of countless beings. Some of them were about to kick the bucket and kick it well. They weren’t to die of any expected natural causes either – unless one counted being “woven out of the Pattern” either natural or expected.”

Death And DyingFunny QuotesSurreal QuotesWeaver Of OddsManipulating Reality
Book:The Weaver of Odds
Create image

“All roads in this mystical world tragically lead to death. Every personal narrative repeats the same rhetorical trope. Memento mori (‘remember that you must die’) and memento mortis (‘remember death’) are the Latin medieval designation of the theory and practice of reflecting on mortality, pondering the vanity of earthly life and the transient nature of all earthly goods and pursuits. The title to metaphysical poet John Donne’s poem Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris (‘Now, this Bell tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die.’) expresses this sentiment of humankind’s painful morality and the interconnectedness of humanity. Remember death – that I must die – is my faithful traveling companion.”

DeathVanityMortalityDeath And DyingInterconnectednessInterconnectionInterconnectivity
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
Create image