V. S. Naipaul Quotes

I envy the dead.

Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering - and it's all over much too soon.

Widow. The word consumes itself.

I don't mourn the dead. I mourn the living.

Life is really pretty tricky, and there's a lot of loss, and the longer you stay alive, the more people you lose whom you actually couldn't live without.

For pleasures past I do not grieve, nor perils gathering near; My greatest grief is that I leave nothing that claims a tear.

It was despairing to find out that I am mortal.

Every so often, we all gaze into the abyss. It's a depressing fact of life that eventually the clock expires; eventually the sand in the hourglass runs out. It's the leaving behind of everything that matters to us that hurts the most.

I'm dying always.

To me, death is dark, pain, grief.

One half of my life has put the other half in the grave.

Even if you live to be a ripe old age, you live long enough to see the people you love pass away.

Nothing lasts. Not even a great sorrow.

What need is there to weep over parts of life? The whole of it calls for tears.

Passing away" is written on the world and all the world contains.

Why are you weeping ? Did you imagine that I was immortal ?

the last cigarettes are smoked, the loaves are sliced, and lest this be taken for wry sorrow, drown the spider in wine. you are much more than simply dead: I am a dish for your ashes, I am a fist for your vanished air. the most terrible thing about life is finding it gone.

Hope is a punishable offense. The verdict is always death; one more death of the heart.

Death is as casual and often as unexpected as birth. It is as difficult to define grief as joy. Each is finite. Each will fade.

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.... [W]hat can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground?... [N]othing can we call our own, but death... [L]et us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings: - How some have been depos'd, some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd.

Sometimes I see me dead in the rain.

In the end, everyone loses everyone.

Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.

But soon, I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct.

We each die countless little deaths on our way to the last. We die out of shame as humiliation. We perish from despair. And, of course, we die for love.