To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.
I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
I'm the one that's got to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to.
The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.
Death ends a life, not a relationship.
It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it.
It is said that your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. That is true, it's called Life.
I don't want to die without any scars.
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
I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
Life is for the living. Death is for the dead. Let life be like music. And death a note unsaid.
You'll stay with me?' Until the very end,' said James.
I go to seek a Great Perhaps.
If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?
That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.