Whilst my god is known for his sense of humour, I don't think it extends as far as to save us from death just to kill us as soon as we wake up.
The best way to overcome depression is to work it to death. Whether it be your body or your mind, just be active and some relief you’ll find.
My mother use to say she would rather be dead than not eat the foods she liked. At eighty-six she met with death but she enjoyed every breath
The shortest distance between two points is a time line, a schedule, a map of your time, the itinerary for the rest of your life. Nothing shows you the straight line from here to death like a list.
Things are embarrassing, best to avoid them. But since your death I prefer a naturalist style of conversation. Let's strip it down to what matters. Let's have emotions and beliefs on show without the modest covering of small talk.
She leaves, carrying a biodegradable carrier bag that reads THE SUICIDE SHOP on one side, and on the other: HAS YOUR LIFE BEEN A FAILURE? LET’S MAKE YOUR DEATH A SUCCESS!
Then haste we down to meet thy friends and foes; To place thy friends in ease, the rest in woes. For here though death doth end their misery, I'll there begin their endless tragedy.
Blindness to knowledge was his mother and despair of death his father. Darkness and fear gave birth to God. Awareness of truth will kill him.
Snatching my hand in the death grip of his fingers, he pulls me off the wall to line his chest, closing his body around me in a muscular cage which smells of leather and soap.
Everything, decided Francie after that first lecture, was vibrant with life and there was no death in chemistry. She was puzzled as to why learned people didn't adopt chemistry as a religion.
Redemption encompasses both of these scenes: God's full and complete entry into the conditions of a world suffering in sin and death and God's resurrection of Jesus to new life, as the firstborn of the new creation.
With mind distracted, never thinking, "Death is coming," To slave away on the pointless business of mundane life, And then to come out empty--it is a tragic error. (116) trans by Robert Thurman
Dillan didn’t just kiss. He slow danced. We moved in sync. I wanted to lose myself in him. In his touch. Right then the world seemed like such a perfect place.
How do I get past my fears? Make a life for myself? Risk loving someone? When death is all that waits for you, what's the point in trying to have a life?
Isn’t it sad that so often it takes facing death to appreciate life and each other fully?
His memory is perfectly clear and serves no good, no purpose at all. He has seen things before (the fly in the bottle, the indeterminate will). Santa Muerte, Saint Death, we pray to you to swallow our breath.
His memory is perfectly clear and serves not good, no purpose at all. He has seen things before (the fly in the bottle, the indeterminate will). Santa Muerte, Saint Death, we pray to you to swallow our breath.
He had to die someday too. He might do it on sheets with a six-hundred-plus thread count, but he'd die just the same. Death wouldn't forget about him.
He will love this music to death. In a few more years, he’ll snort at its sentiment and mock its stirring progressions. Once you’ve loved like that, the only safe haven is resentment.
Whatever is destroyed, the act of destruction does not vary much. Beauty if vapour from the pit of death.
Some have won a wild delight, By daring wilder sorrow; Could I gain thy love to-night, I'd hazard death to-morrow.
