I'm gonna kill him, Eve said, or at least that was what it sounded like filtered through the pillow. Stake him right in the heart, shove garlic up his ass, and-and- And what? (Michael) When did you get home? Claire demanded. Apparently just in time to hear my funeral plans. I especially like the garlic up the ass. It's...different.
Though lovers be lost, love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.
No one can say that death found in me a willing comrade, or that I went easily.
There is love in holding and there is love in letting go.
He'd been wrong, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.
Fear not death for the sooner we die, the longer we shall be immortal.
Books are finite, sexual encounters are finite, but the desire to read and to fuck is infinite; it surpasses our own deaths, our fears, our hopes for peace.
Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we’ll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)
It's better to burn out than to fade away.
Death: THERE ARE BETTER THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN ALCOHOL, ALBERT. Albert: Oh, yes, sir. But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning.
Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.
Here lies Dobby, a free elf.
That's what literature is. It's the people who went before us, tapping out messages from the past, from beyond the grave, trying to tell us about life and death! Listen to them!
The dead can survive as part of the lives of those that still live.
Many people die at twenty five and aren't buried until they are seventy five.
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.