Death Quotes - Page 98

Death is the last limit of all things.

One night awaits all, and death's path must be trodden once and for all.

Death is the ultimate boundary of human matters.

It cost about 75 cents to kill a man in Ceasar's time. The price rose to about $3,000 per man during the Napoleonic wars; to $5,000 in the American Civil War; and then to $21,000 per man in World War I. Estimates for the future wars indicate that it may cost the warring countries not less than $50,000 for each man killed.

Short is my date, but deathless my renown.

Before a man dies, hold back and call him not happy but lucky.

Some dying men are the most tyrannical; and certainly, since they will shortly trouble us so little for evermore, the poor fellows ought to be indulged.

Corpses are more fit to be thrown out than is dung.

And when no longer we can see Thee, may we reach out our hands, and find Thee leading us through death to immortality and glory.

Brethren, we are all sailing home; and by and by, when we are not thinking of it, some shadowy thing (men call it death), at midnight, will pass by, and will call us by name, and will say, "I have a message for you from home; God wants you; heaven waits for you.

Going out into life--that is dying. Christ is the door out of life.

So we fall asleep in Jesus. We have played long enough at the games of life, and at last we feel the approach of death. We are tired out, and we lay our heads back on the bosom of Christ, and quietly fall asleep.

Death? Translated into the heavenly tongue, that word means life!

The young may die, but the old must!

There is no flock, however watched and tended, but one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside howsoe'er defended, but has one vacant chair.

Spending time in Calcutta [India] really did a number on me. The way life and death are almost the same thing, the way poverty is dealt with, the sheer number of dead bodies you see, it's all pretty overwhelming.

We are ever dying to one world and being born into another.

That's the kind of death that frightens me. The shadow of death slowly, slowly eats away at the region of life, and before you know it everything's dark and you can't see, and the people around you think of you as more dead than alive.

intemperance in eating is one of the most fruitful of all causes of disease and death.

I used to be afraid of two things - being alone and not being able to write. Since Albert's death, I don't care about writing or about other people.

The dying man doesn't struggle much and he isn't much afraid. As his alkalies give out he succumbs to a blest stupidity. His mindfogs. His will power vanishes. He submits decently. He scarcely gives a damn.

Loosen up. Relax. Except for rare life-and-death matters, nothing is as important as it first seems.

All eager-lipped I kissed the mouth of Death.

In statistics, what disappears behind rows of numbers is death.

Revolutions existed in history, books were written about them, and lectures given: they were complicated phenomena, scientific, remote. While here, the riot of a week ago had turned out to be a real revolution and the shadow of death actually threatened all of us who were of the ruling cast.