#death

Jewish vampires: Starve me to death? Seriously? Then what? ↗

— Tasha Turner

#jewish-vampire #vampire #death

Death speaks: There was a merchant in Bagdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling and said, Master, just now when I was in the market-place I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw it was Death that jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture; now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me. The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went down to the market-place and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning? That was not a threatening gesture, I said, it was only a start of surprise. I was astonished to see him in Bagdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra. ↗

— W. Somerset Maugham

#humor #death

Raise from your bed of languor Raise from your bed of dismay Your friends will not come tomorrow As they did not come today You must rely on yourself, they said, You must rely on yourself, Oh but I find this pill so bitter said the poor man As he took it from the shelf Crying, O sweet Death come to me Come to me for company, Sweet Death it is only you I can Constrain for company. ↗

— Stevie Smith

#poetry #death

Awareness of mortality exerts a unique power to focus the mind and heart on essentials. ↗

— Columba Stewart

#life #death

The casualty lists went on appearing for a long time after the Armistice - last spasms of Europe's severed arteries. ↗

— Richard Aldington

#death

I'm a survivor, " I said. But I didn't think that claim would carry much weight in an obituary. ↗

— Tobias Wolff

#epitaph #humor #irony #death

They say the sky is the same everywhere. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought[.] ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#travel #death

More than a hygenic method of disposing of the dead, cremation enabled lovers and comrades to be mingled together for eternity: The ashes of Domitian were mingled with those of Julia; of Achilles with those of Patroclus; All Urnes contained not single ashes; Without confused burnings they affectionately compounded their bones; passionately endeavouring to continue their living Unions. And when distance of death denied such conjunctions, unsatisfied affections concieved some satisfaction to be neighbours in the grave, to lye Urne by Urne, and touch but in their names. ↗

— Catharine Arnold

#death #urns #death

He turned back, and there was an odd light in his eyes. “Did I ever tell you that I can't live without you?” he said. “No,” she said. “You can tell me about it when we survive.” She could barely breathe, death was eating its way toward her, and she wanted to laugh out loud with the joy of it. ↗

— Anne Stuart

#death

You’re right about something else,” he said, his voice ragged. “I’m scared to death of you. Because I want you, when common sense and a lifetime of experience tells me I should kill you. I want you, and if I give up then you’ll own me, and I’ll have nothing left to fight with. ↗

— Anne Stuart

#death