Every night death came, slowly, painfully, and every morning Maddox awoke in bed, knowing he'd have to die again later. That was his greatest curse and his eternal punishment.
death knowing night morning eternal die punishment curse bed
Yes, Max, you are going to die. Just like everybody else. Thank you, Confucious.
death die max
Death alone gives meaning to life, and you will never fully live until you know you must die. And make your peace with that knowledge.
life peace death live meaning knowledge die
A child said What is the grass? Fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation. Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps, And here you are the mothers' laps. This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues, And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing... What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
women life flag people men death moment children hopeful beautiful gift growing dark mothers end black child hands green forward alive young wait die hair white grass answer red lord give breasts
Survival is the celebration of choosing life over death. We know we're going to die. We all die. But survival is saying: perhaps not today. In that sense, survivors don't defeat death, they come to terms with it.
life survival death sense today defeat die celebration
When someone says, One last thing, it never is. Unless they die right after speaking. Make sure that they do.?Check their pulse to be certain.?
death murder conversation speaking die certainty thing
Everyone must leave something behind when he dies... Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die... It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away.
change death soul change-the-world hands leave matter die legacy hand
Though there had been moments of beauty in it Mariam knew that life for most part had been unkind to her. But as she walked the final twenty paces, she could not help but wish for more of it. She wished she could see Laila again, wished to hear the clangor of her laugh, to sit with her once more for a pot of chai and leftover halwa under a starlit sky. She mourned that she would never see Aziza grow up, would not see the beautiful young woman that she would oneday become, would not get to paint her hands with henna and toss noqul candy at her wedding. She would never play with Aziza's children. She would have liked that very much, to be old and play with Aziza's children. Mariam wished for so much in those final moments. Yet as she closed her eyes, it was not regret any longer but a sensation of abundant peace that wshed over her. She thought of her entry into this world, the harami child of a lowly villager, an unintended thing, a pitiable, regrettable accident. A weed, And yet she was leaving the wolrd as a woman who had loved and been loved back. She was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian.A mother. A person of consequence at last. No. It was no so bad, Mariam thought, that she should die this way. Not so bad. This was a legitimate end to a life of illegitimate beginnings. Pg. 360
accident wedding life peace death beauty children leaving thought world regret beautiful sky moments mother person woman end bad play grow child eyes friend laugh hands beginnings young die hear part thing candy companion paint
My father told me once that the most important thing every man should know is what he would die for.
man death pride sacrifice die father important thing
I must die. Must I then die lamenting? I must be put in chains. Must I then also lament? I must go into exile. Does any man then hinder me from going with smiles and cheerfulness and contentment?
life man death happiness choices positivity contentment smiles cheerfulness die exile lament
So if there is something on the planet that is worth living for, I'd better not miss it, because once you're dead, it's too late for regrets, and if you die by mistake, that is really, really dumb.
funny humor worth life death living regrets irony dead mistake die planet dumb
He would work through the night and sleep until lunch. There wasn't really much else to do. Make something, and die.
sleep work death night die
John: 'Have mercy. I don't want to die!'Sita: 'Then you should never have been born.
death mercy die born john
The scariest thing in the world is thinking someone you love is going to die.
death world thinking die love thing
I was sitting at home and had a profound experience. I experienced, in all of my Being, that someday I was going to die, and it wouldn't be like it had been happening, almost dying but somehow staying alive, but I would just die! And two things would happen right before I died: I would regret my entire life; I would want to live it over again. This terrified me. The thought that I would live my entire life, look at it and realize I blew it forced me to do something with my life.
life motivation death home live experience thought regret profound alive things die dying realize
Most people don't want to die, but they don't want to live either. I am speaking about men now as much as women. They look for a third way, but there is no third way.
women people men death live life-lessons speaking die
Because there is nothing here than invites us to cherish unhappy lovers. Nothing is more vain than to die for love. What we ought to do is live.
death live existence lovers vain die unhappy love
Love doesn't go anywhere when you die, you know. The person passes on, the body withers, but love, it survives.
death body person die love
History did not demand Yossarian's premature demise, justice could be satisfied without it, progress did not hinge upon it, victory did not depend on it. That men would die was a matter of necessity; WHICH men would die, though, was a matter of circumstance, and Yossarian was willing to be the victim of anything but circumstance. But that was war. Just about all he could find in its favor was that it paid well and liberated children from the pernicious influence of their parents.
progress necessity victory men death history war children parents justice influence find favor matter die victim demand
In the time that we're here today, more women and children will die violently in the Darfur region than in Iraq, Afghanistan, Palestine, Israel or Lebanon. So, after September 30, you won't need the UN - you will simply need men with shovels and bleached white linen and headstones.
women politics men death time war children today global afghanistan iraq palestine die israel white
If I could find one wordthat would shudder the airlike that frightened sob, that wordless prayerof my newly-born, who drew one breath, and with unopened eyessank back into death; If I could break the world's cold heartwith that cry, then this grief would liftand I could die.
poetry death break loss breath cry grief find die cold
Do you realise that people die of boredom in London suburbs? It's the second biggest cause of death amongs the English in general. Sheer boredom..
people death boredom die london english england
If we lived for ever, what you say would be true. But we have to die, we have to leave life presently. Injustice and greed would be the real thing if we lived for ever. As it is, we must hold to other things, because Death is coming. I love death - not morbidly, but because He explains. He shows me the emptiness of Money. Death and Money are the eternal foes. Not Death and Life.... Death destroys a man: the idea of Death saves him. Behind the coffins and the skeletons that stay the vulgar mind lies something so immense that all that is great in us responds to it. Men of the world may recoil from the charnel-house that they will one day enter, but Love knows better. Death is his foe, but his peer, and in their age-long struggle the thews of Love have been strengthened, and his vision cleared, until there is no one who can stand against him.
vision life idea money man mind men death real lies true world greed day injustice struggle eternal stand leave emptiness things die great love thing
One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washèd it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide and made my pains his prey. Vain man (said she) that dost in vain assayA mortal thing so to immortalise; For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wipèd out likewise. Not so (quod I); let baser things deviseTo die in dust, but you shall live by fame; My verse your virtues rare shall eternise, And in the heavens write your glorious name: Where, when as Death shall all the world subdue, Our love shall live, and later life renew.
poetry fame virtues life man death live world immortality write day vain things die verse hand dust made decay love thing
Honor from death, I snap, is a myth. Invented by the war torn to make sense of the horrific. If we die, it will be so that others may live. Truly honorable death, the only honorable death, is one that enables life.
honor life death war live sense myth quotes-to-live-by die
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