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I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather. Not screaming in terror like his passengers.
I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather. Not screaming in terror like his passengers.
The cost of living is dying, everybody pays.
The cost of living is dying, everybody pays.
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
I really wanted to die at certain periods in my life. Death was like love, a romantic escape. I took read more
I really wanted to die at certain periods in my life. Death was like love, a romantic escape. I took pills because I didn't want to throw myself off my balcony and know people would photograph me lying dead below.
When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world read more
When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is read more
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.
The devil helps his servants for a season; but when they get into a pinch; he leaves them in the read more
The devil helps his servants for a season; but when they get into a pinch; he leaves them in the lurch.
Death always waits. The door of the hearse is never closed.
Death always waits. The door of the hearse is never closed.
There is no death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the read more
There is no death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian, whose portal we call Death.
