Died Quotes - Page 10

I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands. In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign her newborn. Baby, drink milk. Baby, play ball. And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.

Amy Hempel

Mother, Baby, Grief

Amy Hempel, Rick Moody (2007). “The Collected Stories of Amy Hempel”, p.40, Simon and Schuster

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The small wad of burning paper drew down to a wisp of flame and then died out leaving a faint pattern for just a moment in the incandescence like the shape of a flower, a molten rose. Then all was dark again.

Cormac McCarthy

Flower, Dark, Flames

Cormac McCarthy (2007). “The Road”, p.40, Vintage

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The tree that never had to fight for sun and sky and air and light but stood out in the open plain and always got it share of rain, never became a forest king but lived and died a scrubby thing. Good timber does not grow with ease. The stronger wind, the stronger trees.

Douglas Malloch

Kings, Rain, Fighting

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Every life is inexplicable, I kept telling myself. No matter how many facts are told, no matter how many details are given, the essential thing resists telling. To say that so and so was born here and went there, that he did this and did that, that he married this woman and had these children, that he lived, that he died, that he left behind these books or this battle or that bridge – none of that tells us very much.

Paul Auster

Children, Book, Bridges

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I'm trying..." How could I put it? "I'm trying to get far enough down the line so that I can remember." I stopped, then continued: "so that I can remember without the pain killing me" And the days were stacking up. And weeks. And months. It was now almost the middle of June and he'd died in February, but I still felt like I'd just woken from a horrible dream, that I was suspended in that stunned, paralyzed state between sleep and reality where I was grasping for, but couldn't get a handle on normality.

Marian Keyes

Dream, Pain, Sleep

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Just because a man has died for it, does not make it true.

Oscar Wilde

Men, Doe

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When my mother died, my father's early widowhood gave him social cachet he would not have had if they had divorced. He was a bigger catch for the sorrow attached.

Amy Hempel

Mother, Father, Sorrow

Amy Hempel, Rick Moody (2007). “The Collected Stories of Amy Hempel”, p.367, Simon and Schuster

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He died not for men, but for each man. If each man had been the only man made, He would have done no less.

C. S. Lewis

Men, Religion, Done

C. S. Lewis (2003). “A Mind Awake: An Anthology of C. S. Lewis”, p.93, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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...a capital patient, as she never died and never got well.

Louisa May Alcott

Patient, Wells

Louisa May Alcott (2015). “The Complete Works of Louisa May Alcott (Illustrated): Novels, Short Stories, Plays & Poems: Little Women, Good Wives, Little Men, Jo's Boys, A Modern Mephistopheles, Eight Cousins, Rose in Bloom, Jack and Jill, Behind a Mask, The Abbot's Ghost…”, p.2371, e-artnow

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Once upon a time there was a bear and a bee who lived in a wood and were the best of friends. All summer long the bee collected nectar from morning to night while the bear lay on his back basking in the long grass. When winter came the bear realised he had nothing to eat and thought to himself 'I hope that busy little bee will share some of his honey with me.' But the bee was nowhere to be found - he had died of a stress induced coronary disease.

Banksy

Summer, Morning, Stress

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Don't be afraid of StarClan. They will understand about Brokentail. You will be honored by our warrior ancestors for your loyalty toy your Clanmates and for your endless courage. So many cats owe their lives to you. Cinderpelt would have died after her accident if you hadn't tended to her. And when there was greencough, you fought day and night.

Erin Hunter

Loyalty, Cat, Warrior

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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

Night, Covered Up, Names

"I died for beauty but was scarce" l. 1 (ca. 1862)

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A Manhattan lawyer who describes himself as "America`s leading expert on the militia movement" writes that he hugged his three-year-old kid the night of the Oklahoma City bombing. He told junior that it happened "because they hated too much" For now, let`s accept the premise that one hundred sixty-eight humans died in Oklahoma City because people "hated too much" Now answer these questions if you would be so kind: did a federal sniper shoot Vicki Weaver in the face because he hated too much? Did our government conduct the Tuskegee with syphilis on black soldiers because it hated too much?

Jim Goad

Writing, Kids, Night

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Without you the instruments would die. One sits close beside you. Another takes a long kiss. The tambourine begs, Touch my skin so I can be myself. Let me feel you enter each limb bone by bone, that what died last night can be whole today. Why live some soberer way, and feel you ebbing out? I won't do it. Either give me enough wine or leave me alone, now that I know how it is to be with you in constant conversation.

Rumi

Wine, Kissing, Night

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It was a real whale, a photograph of a real whale. I looked into its tiny wise eye and wondered where that eye was now. Was it alive and swimming, or had it died long ago, or was it dying now, right this second? When a whale dies, it falls down through the ocean slowly, over the course of a day. All the other fish see it fall, like a giant statue, like a building, but slowly, slowly.

Miranda July

Wise, Real, Ocean

Miranda July (2008). “No One Belongs Here More Than You: Stories”, p.9, Simon and Schuster

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How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Bob Dylan

Men, Wind, Sky

"Blowin' in the Wind" (song) (1962)

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A socialist is just someone who is unable to get over his or her astonishment that most people who have lived and died have spent lives of wretched, fruitless, unremitting toil.

Terry Eagleton

People, Toil, Astonishment

Terry Eagleton (1991). “Ideology: An Introduction”, p.82, Verso

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Palindrome as well. My sister's name is Hannah. Father liked word games. He was fourteen times World Scrabble Champion. When he died, we buried him at Queenzieburn to make use of the triple word score.

Jasper Fforde

Father, Games, Names

Jasper Fforde (2006). “The Big Over Easy: A Nursery Crime”, p.86, Penguin

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And the earth died screaming, while I lay dreaming.

Tom Waits

Dream, Earth, Lays

Song: Earth Died Screaming

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I am sorry too," said Lupin. "Sorry I will never know [my son]... but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.

J. K. Rowling

Sorry, Son, Trying

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I, too, have felt that the war goes on and on. When my son, Ian, died at El Alamein-- side by side with... visitors offering their condolences, thinking to comfort me, said, "Life goes on." What nonsense, I thought, of course it doesn't. It's death that goes on; Ian is dead now and will be dead tomorrow and nexe year and forever. There's no end to that. But perhaps there will be an end to the sorrow of it.

Mary Ann Shaffer

War, Condolences, Son

Annie Barrows, Mary Ann Shaffer (2011). “The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (Random House Reader's Circle Deluxe Reading Group Edition): A Novel”, p.101, Dial Press

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For a hundred years or more the world, our world, has been dying. And not one man, in these last hundred years or so, has been crazy enough to put a bomb up the asshole of creation and set it off. The world is rotting away, dying piecemeal. But it needs the coup de grace, it needs to be blown to smithereens. Not one of us is intact, and yet we have in us all the continents and the seas between the continents and the birds of the air. We are going to put it down ― the evolution of this world which has died but which has not been buried.

Henry Miller

Crazy, Men, Our World

Henry Miller, John Calder (1985). “A Henry Miller reader”, Riverrun Pr

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In places where a loved one has died, time stops for eternity. If I stand on the very spot, one says to oneself, like a prayer, might I feel the pain he felt? They say that on a visit to an old castle or whatever, the history of the place, the presence of people who walked there many years ago, can be felt in the body. Before, when I heard things like that, I would think, what are they talking about? But i felt I understood it now.

Banana Yoshimoto

Prayer, Pain, Thinking

Banana Yoshimoto, Megan Backus (1979). “Three Plays”, p.124, Grove Press

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...she waited until she and my grandfather Anthel were just home from their honeymoon, and then sat him down and told him this: "Honey, I know you like to take a drink, and that's all right, but be forewarned that I ain't your maid and I ain't your punching bag, and if you ever raise your hand to me you'd best kill me. Because otherwise I'll wait until you're asleep; sew you into the bed; and beat you to death with a frying pan." Until he died, I am told, my grandfather was a gentle man.

Haven Kimmel

Home, Men, Hands

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What should have died along with communism is the belief that modern societies can be run on a single principle, whether that of planning under the general will or that of free-market allocations.

Charles Taylor

Running, Should Have, Principles

Charles Taylor (1992). “The Ethics of Authenticity”, p.110, Harvard University Press

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