Quotes, Quotations and Sayings

We may have civilized bodies and yet barbarous souls. We are blind to the real sights of this world; deaf to its voice; and dead to its death. And not till we know, that one grief outweighs ten thousand joys will we become what Christianity is striving to make us.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.

You must not fear death, my lads; defy him, and you drive him into the enemy's ranks.

The whole earth, perpetually steeped in blood, is nothing but an immense altar on which every living thing must be sacrificed without end, without restraint, without respite until the consummation of the world, the extinction of evil, the death of death.

In the whole vast dome of living nature there reigns an open violence, a kind of prescriptive fury which arms all the creatures to their common doom: as soon as you leave the inanimate kingdom you find the decree of violent death inscribed on the very frontiers of life.

There is something about poverty that smells like death.

O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me: of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse.

Security is a kind of death.

Is death legally binding?

Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.

What causes the mysterious death of everyone?

If we don't know life, how can we know death

Tough girl I'm almost single, my husband's on death row.

Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death.

Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death?;"Shakespeare

Is there life before death

Poor soul - very sad; her late husband, you know, a very sad death - eaten by missionaries - poor soul.

Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short, but when we have had our swing of pleasure, our fill of fruit, and our swelter of heat, we say we have had our day.

This dance of death which sounds so musically Was sure intended for the corpse de ballet.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'dAnd the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still

Every day the fat woman dies a series of small deaths.

Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is ... delay it for a while.

I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.

I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death.

The most painful death in all the world is the death of a child. When a child dies, when one child dies-not the 11 per 1,000 we talk about statistically, but the one that a mother held briefly in her arms-he leaves an empty place in a parent's heart that will never heal.

Human life consists in mutual service. No grief, pain, misfortune, or ''broken heart,'' is excuse for cutting off one's life while any power of service remains. But when all usefulness is over, when one is assured of an unavoidable and imminent death, it is the simplest of human rights to choose a quick and easy death in place of a slow and horrible one.

Here's to a long life, and a merry one; a quick death, and an easy one; a pretty girl, and an honest one; a cold beer

The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.

It is a sad fact that 50 percent of marriages in this country end in divorce. But hey, the other half end in death. You could be one of the lucky ones!

'Tis after death that we measure men.

My philosophy of life is that the meek shall inherit nothing but debasement, frustration, and ignoble deaths...

No society has been able to abolish human sadness, no political system can deliver us from the pain of living, from our fear of death, our thirst for the absolute. It is the human condition that directs the social condition, not vice versa.

''Finality is death. Perfection is finality. Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it,'' said the Philosopher.

Death and life have their determined appointments; riches and honors depend upon heaven.

There is no such thing as death. In nature nothing dies. From each sad remnant of decay, some forms of life arise so shall his life be taken away before he knoweth that he hath it.

Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend; The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.

An evil life is a kind of death.

When I look back on all the worries I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which never happened.

A useless life is an early death.

Relationships are like a dance, with visible energy racing back and forth between partners. Some relationships are the slow, dark dance of death.

We all try to escape pain and death, while we seek what is pleasant.

The tragedy of life is in what dies inside a man while he lives -- the death of genuine feeling, the death of inspired response, the awareness that makes it possible to feel the pain or the glory of other men in yourself.

Intellectual growth should commence at birth and cease only at death.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste. Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow) For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, and weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe, and moan the expense of many a vanished sight. Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, and heavily from woe to woe tell over the sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end.

Ordinary people seem not to realize that those who really apply themselves in the right way to philosophy are directly and of their own accord preparing themselves for dying and death.

Lovers of air travel find it exhilarating to hang poised between the illusion of immortality and the fact of death.

And in the happy no-time of his sleeping/ Death took him by the heart.

Evidently there are plenty of people in journalism who have neither got what they liked nor quite grown to like what they get. They write pieces they do not much enjoy writing, for papers they totally despise, and the sad process ends by ruining their style and disintegrating their personality, two developments which in a writer cannot be separate, since his personality and style must progress or deteriorate together, like a married couple in a country where death is the only permissible divorce.

It's really quite a simple choice: Life, Death, or Los Angeles.

Our life is made by the death of others.