#dying

Latinos have fought in all of America's wars, beginning with the Revolutionary War. Many Latinos are fighting and dying for our country today in Iraq, just as several of their ancestors fought for freedom in Mexico over a century ago. ↗

— Joe Baca

#america #ancestors #beginning #century #country

To live a life that is wrong for you is a form of dying. There are people who have lives that look perfect. They try to be happy, they believe they should be happy, they are trying to like it, but if it's off course from their north star, they aren't satisfied. ↗

— Martha Beck

#believe #course #dying #form #happy

The purpose of life is to familiarize oneself with this after-death body so that the act of dying will not create confusion in the psyche. ↗

— Terence McKenna

#dying #life #death

Life and death lived inside each other. That's what occured to me. Death was inside all of us, waiting for warmer nights, a compromised system, a beetle, as in the now dying black timber on the mountains. ↗

— Peter Heller

#dying #life #nature #death

Life is stressful,dear. That's why they say "rest in peace. ↗

— David Mazzucchelli

#life #death

If you look up to see a shooting star, you might miss the silver dollar on the sidewalk. But no matter where you look, or where you travel, you’ll never get lost or arrive late to your own death. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#funny #death

Suffering is universal. It's the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about ↗

— John Green

#dying #inspirational #religion #suffering #death

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it. And the very act of living is a tide: at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#death

There is a thin line that separates life from death, but once it's crossed, it becomes as large as an ocean, and so treacherous that it’s impossible to cross back. ↗

— Federico Chini

#sea #death

Come, my child," I said, trying to lead her away. "Wish good-bye to the poor hare, and come and look for blackberries." "Good-bye, poor hare!" Sylvie obediently repeated, looking over her shoulder at it as we turned away. And then, all in a moment, her self-command gave way. Pulling her hand out of mine, she ran back to where the dead hare was lying, and flung herself down at its side in such an agony of grief as I could hardly have believed possible in so young a child. "Oh, my darling, my darling!" she moaned, over and over again. "And God meant your life to be so beautiful! ↗

— Lewis Carroll

#children-s-literature #death #dying #god #grief