Virginia Woolf Quotes

Whatever is truly alive must die. Look at the flowers; only plastic flowers never die.

These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, waking in the dawn of the morning, in the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, sleeping in the cold night's arms.

Everything that's realistic has some sort of ugliness in it. Even a flower is ugly when it wilts, a bird when it seeks its prey, the ocean when it becomes violent.

It ends all things: birds, trees, flowers, mountain tops, and business; it grinds stones to sand, and as terrible as it is, and it's the most beautiful thing we have in our lives - time.

We [people] may enjoy this fleeting beauty [of life] for such a brief instance. And then we are compost. G - , the creator-destroyer, certainly has a strange sense of humor!

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.

Life is a frail moth flying Caught in the web of the years that pass.

The course of Nature seems a course of Death, And nothingness the whole substantial thing.

Beauty is at its most poignant when the cold hand of Death holds poised to wither it imminently.

Learn from nature. Stuff lives and stuff dies all the time, you know. Animals and birds and flowers. Trees come and go, and we come and go. That's it. So we should all seize life and make the most of what we have while we can.

Certainly people have a lot tougher situations than I've had to deal with. But I will say we are all dying from the moment we are born. This is not just rehearsal.

Nature is one great big wood-chipper. Sooner or later, everything shoots out the other end in a spray of blood, bones and hair.

To live is to die.

When one's dead, one's dead... This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And still later on, there'll grow new trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that's so very sad?

Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.

I love things on the decline because that's really the natural progression of our lives. We're born, we're feisty for the first couple of years, and then the inevitable decline begins.

Time takes the ugliness and horror out of death and turns it into beauty.

Death, like birth, is a secret of Nature.

Life is an incurable disease.

Death is an absolute mystery. We are all vulnerable to it, it's what makes life interesting and suspenseful.

He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time too well.

Birth and death are the most singular events we experience - and the contemplation of death, as of birth, should be a thing of beauty, not ignobility.

Death is an art, you know.

Everything born has to die, in order to make room for the future.