#death

Take care of your life and the Lord will take care of your death. ↗

— George Whitefield

#death #life #lord #take #take care

When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead. ↗

— John Greenleaf Whittier

#dead #dies #faith #honor #lost

Because of indifference, one dies before one actually dies. ↗

— Elie Wiesel

#actually #because #before #dies #indifference

I support Democrats and Republicans. And I'm telling you that the business community in this company is frightened to death of the weird political philosophy of the President of the United States. And until he's gone, everybody's going to be sitting on their thumbs. ↗

— Steve Wynn

#business community #community #company #death #democrats

Days will prove that the assassination policy will not finish the Hamas. Hamas leaders wish to be martyrs and are not scared of death. Jihad will continue and the resistance will continue until we have victory, or we will be martyrs. ↗

— Ahmed Yassin

#continue #days #death #finish #hamas

I balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breath, a waste of breath the years behind, in balance with this life, this death. ↗

— William Butler Yeats

#balanced #behind #breath #brought #come

The approach of death certainly concentrates the mind. ↗

— A. N. Wilson

#certainly #concentrates #death #mind

I want to write my own eulogy, and I want to write it in Latin. It seems only fitting to read a dead language at my funeral. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#dead-language #death #eulogy #funeral #funny

Do not go gentle into that good night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. ↗

— Dylan Thomas

#dying #father #poems #age

Dr. Urbino caught the parrot around the neck with a triumphant sigh: ça y est. But he released him immediately because the ladder slipped from under his feet and for an instant he was suspended in the air and then he realized that he had died without Communion, without time to repent of anything or to say goodbye to anyone, at seven minutes after four on Pentecost Sunday. Fermina Daza was in the kitchen tasting the soup for supper when she heard Digna Pardo's horrified shriek and the shouting of the servants and then of the entire neighborhood. She dropped the tasting spoon and tried to run despite the invincible weight of her age, screaming like a madwoman without knowing yet what had happened under the mango leaves, and her heart jumped inside her ribs when she saw her man lying on his back in the mud, dead to this life but still resisting death's final blow for one last minute so that she would have time to come to him. He recognized her despite the uproar, through his tears of unrepeatable sorrow at dying without her, and he looked for her for the last and final time with eyes more luminous, more grief-stricken, more grateful that she had ever seen them in the half century of a shared life, and he managed to say to her with his last breath: "Only God knows how much I loved you. ↗

— Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

#love #age