Zelda Fitzgerald Quotes

Death. The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity- and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.

Death's not a separation or alteration or parting; it's just a one-handled door.

Death haunts everyone and never fails.

Now he understood. This was death. Death was a silence that gave back no answer.

Death comes to us, under many conditions, with all the welcome serenity of sleep.

Death is the ultimate disappointment

Whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave, let him know he has enough.

How strange a thing is death, bringing to his knees, bringing to his antlers The buck in the snow . . . Life, looking out attentive from the eyes of the doe.

I am dying: it's a beautiful word. Like the long slow sigh of the cello: dying. But the sound of it is the only beautiful thing about it.

I'm not frightened about death. I don't know why, but I just feel that at a certain moment your switch is switched off, and that's it. And you can't do anything about it.

That death was near, I suppose I believed, but I saw it only as a rest after the day's work.

The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.

Why do people want to pretend that death is sleep? It isn't. It isn't.

Death is perfectly safe. (55)

The people who pretend that dying is rather like strolling into the next room always leave me unconvinced. Death, like birth, must be a tremendous event.

Never but the one matter. The dead and gone. The dying and going. From the word go.

But death is not freedom. For a moment, it can look like freedom. But then it's death. Anything. Something. Nothing.

For Death who takes what man would keep, Leaves what man would lose.

Death is wonderful because you can't think about it. How are you gonna think about it?

Death may whiten in sun or out of it.

Death hath a thousand doors to let out life.

death - a passage outside the range of imagination, but within the range of experience.

Death is the end of every worldly pain.

Death! It is rest to the aged, it is oblivion to the atheist, it is immortality to the poet!