When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me'.
In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.
Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't.
The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started.
We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.
I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.
Ask yourself what makes you come alive.
I am convinced that it is not the fear of death, of our lives ending, that haunts our sleep so much as the fear that as far as the world is concerned, we might as well never have lived.
And in real life endings aren't always neat, whether they're happy endings, or whether they're sad endings.
In contravention of my belief that any life ending in death is essentially pointless, I needed my friends to open up that plastic bag and take one last look at me. Someone had to remember me, if only for a few more minutes in the vast silent waiting room of time.
We will do anything to get away from our own pain. We will change our lives, rip people out, swallow a bottle of life-ending pills. When we hurt more than we can bear, when our lives get that dark, it's shocking what we will do to protect ourselves.
I see myself at a certain age as not being able to play the kind of parts that would keep me stimulated, and I can't imagine my life ending professionally the moment that I've got to go to the plastic surgeon and have my face rearranged.
or simply: