Henry David Thoreau Quotes

I'm dying always.

Cause I swear that I'm dying, slowly but its happening.

For death is not the worst, but when one wants to die and is not able even to have that.

It is not death, but dying, which is terrible.

It was pitch dark. I could hear only the violin, and it was as though Juliek's soul were the bow. He was playing his life. The whole of his life was gliding on the strings--his last hopes, his charred past, his extinguished future. He played as he would never play again...When I awoke, in the daylight, I could see Juliek, opposite me, slumped over, dead. Near him lay his violin, smashed, trampled, a strange overwhelming little corpse.

It hath been often said, that it is not death, but dying, which is terrible.

You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!

Down in Denver, all I did was die.

it's just another way to die

I wonder if it hurts to live, And if they have to try, And whether, could they choose between, They would not rather die.

I was a queen, and you took away my crown; a wife, and you killed my husband; a mother, and you deprived me of my children. My blood alone remains: take it, but do not make me suffer long.

Suicide doesn't solve your problems. It only makes them infinitely, un-countably worse.

I really wanted to die at certain periods in my life.

There is no love without suffering.

This has been harder for my friends. I know I'm going to die.

Still falls the rain - dark as the world of man, black as our loss - blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails upon the Cross.

It is not death, it is dying that alarms me.

To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious. There are far worse things awaiting man than death.

When I did 'Bumble-ardy,' I was so intensely aware of death. Eugene, my friend and partner, was dying here in the house when I did 'Bumble-ardy'. I did 'Bumble-ardy' to save myself. I did not want to die with him. I wanted to live, as any human being does.

I don't think you could get anything worse than losing a child. I think if my child died, I would prefer it if I were dead.

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

I envy the dead.

In 2001, my father finally succumbed to the bone cancer that had tortured him for seven years. His last weeks were a terrible, black icing on the cake, the agony, the slow twisting, thinning and snapping of his skeleton. Everything fell apart.

Suffering has roused them from the sleep of gentle life, and every day fills them with a terrible intoxication. They are now something more than themselves; those we loved were merely happy shadows.

It hurts, it hurts... Im dying, I'm dying.