Dying Love Quotes

There are four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.

Only the young die good.

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

Death is caused by swallowing small amounts of saliva over a long period of time.

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.

If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.

Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives.

Everyone dies but not everyone lives.

One should die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly.

He who doesn't fear death dies only once.

In the long run we are all dead.

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person.

Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them.

Do not seek death. Death will find you. But seek the road which makes death a fulfillment.

Do not seek death. Death will find you.

Man dies of cold, not of darkness.

Lord, send Your life throughout the entire church. Visit Your church; restore sound doctrine and holy, earnest living. Take away from professing Christians their love of frivolities, their attempts to meet the world on it's own ground, and give back the old love of the doctrines of the Cross and Christ. May free grace and dying love again be the music that refreshes the church and makes her heart exceeding glad.

To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at the proper time, with a clear head and with joyfulness, consummated in the midst of children and witnesses: so that an actual leave-taking is possible while he who is leaving is still there.

Men fear death as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased by tales, so is the other.

To some Christians today, this world is not a sinking ship or a world reserved for fire. It is an international capitol building overrun with undesirables whom these believers plan to kick out. They will then take their place, renovating and governing it all themselves. Such thinking is symptomatic of a dying love for Jesus and a clinging to this world!

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.

Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.

Life is better than death, I believe, if only because it is less boring, and because it has fresh peaches in it.

A man does not die of love or his liver or even of old age; he dies of being a man.

Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave.

Even at our birth, death does but stand aside a little. And every day he looks toward us and muses somewhat to himself whether that day or the next he will draw nigh.

Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.

Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead?

Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity.

While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.

Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

I've told my children that when I die, to release balloons in the sky to celebrate that I graduated. For me, death is a graduation.

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.

The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of trauma, I will fear no concussion.

If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons.

The idea is to die young as late as possible.

Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.

For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.

Someone has somewhere commented on the fact that millions long for immortality who don't know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Death is nothing else but going home to God, the bond of love will be unbroken for all eternity.

We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.