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Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.

Ernest Hemingway

Stichwörter: life death

If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?

Chuck Palahniuk

Stichwörter: death

Sleep, those little slices of death — how I loathe them.

Edgar Allan Poe

Stichwörter: sleep death

How many more times do we have to come to terms with death before we find safety?" he asked.

He waited a few minutes, but the three of us didn't say anything. He continued: "Every time people come at us with the intention of killing us, I close my eyes and wait for death. Even though I am still alive, I feel like each time I accept death, part of me dies. Very soon I will completely die and all that will be left is my empty body walking with you. It will be quieter than I am.

Ishmael Beah

Stichwörter: death

Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Saying: "[Death is] to lose the earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than home, more large than earth.

Thomas Wolfe

Stichwörter: death

A society that doesn't know any longer how to observe every death with proper rituals, that does not know that death is not the end, but only part of the journey, has lost its way, has had the very heart of its humanity torn out.

Marina Warner

Stichwörter: death journeys

The one close to me now,
even my own body-
these too
will soon become clouds,
floating in different directions.

Izumi Shikibu

Stichwörter: death change impermanence

When I die,' I said to my friend, 'I'm not going to be embalmed. I'm going to be dipped.' Milk chocolate or bittersweet was the immediate concern.

Adrianne Marcus

Stichwörter: death chocolate

I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth,—the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.

Emily Dickinson

Stichwörter: truth poetry beauty death keats