#death

The awful thing is that if i can forget they're people, it will be no different at all ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#life #philosophical #philosophy #death

I kept asking myself if I felt different, if I was different. The answer was always yes. I was no longer nothing… How odd, I thought; it had taken my mother’s death, Father Quinel’s murder, and the desire of others to kill me to claim a life of my own. ↗

— Avi

#death

For the first time in my life I tasted death, and death tasted bitter, for death is birth, is fear and dread of some terrible renewal. ↗

— Hermann Hesse

#death #demian #hermann-hesse #death

She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#death

Death twitches my ear. "Live," he says, "I am coming. ↗

— Virgil Publius Vergilius Maro

#death

On soft feet, by none detected, Dealing death, by most rejected, Killed by claw, since resurrected, Marked by X, two lines connected. Finally, they intersected, Two lines met, one unexpected. ↗

— suzzane collins

#peace-maker #rat #underland #death

I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure. ↗

— Mark Twain

#humor #death

I went down not long ago to the Mad River, under the willows I knelt and drank from that crumpled flow, call it what madness you will, there's a sickness worse than the risk of death and that's forgetting what we should never forget. Tecumseh lived here. The wounds of the past are ignored, but hang on like the litter that snags among the yellow branches, newspapers and plastic bags, after the rains. Where are the Shawnee now? Do you know? Or would you have to write to Washington, and even then, whatever they said, would you believe it? Sometimes I would like to paint my body red and go into the glittering snow to die. His name meant Shooting Star. From Mad River country north to the border he gathered the tribes and armed them one more time. He vowed to keep Ohio and it took him over twenty years to fail. After the bloody and final fighting, at Thames, it was over, except his body could not be found, and you can do whatever you want with that, say his people came in the black leaves of the night and hauled him to a secret grave, or that he turned into a little boy again, and leaped into a birch canoe and went rowing home down the rivers. Anyway this much I'm sure of: if we meet him, we'll know it, he will still be so angry. ↗

— Mary Oliver

#poetry #tecumseh #death

When you're dead, everything in the world is like a song that makes you cry. ↗

— Adam Selzer

#zombies #death

If you don't live a life in service of a greater good, you've gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know? And I fear that I won't get either a life or a death that means anything. ↗

— John Green

#greater-good #life #death