Jean Cocteau Quotes

The human animal dances wildest on the edge of the grave.

Life was a pre-death experience.

Death, thou art infinite; it is life is little.

EXISTENCE, n. A transient, horrible, fantastic dream,/ Wherein is nothing yet all things do seem:/ From which we're wakened by a friendly nudge/ Of our bedfellow Death, and cry: "O fudge!"

No one loses any other life than the one he now lives, nor does one live any other life than that which he will lose.

Some men spend their whole life furnishing for themselves the things proper to life without realizing that at our birth each of us was poured a mortal brew to drink.

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter. Love and desire and hate; I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate.

In the midst of life, we are in death.

Life has no meaning the moment you lose the illusion of being eternal.

Birth was the death of him.

Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.

I used to believe I was going to live forever. And then you suddenly become aware that you're not.

I've always been slightly preoccupied with death or whatever those kind of silly big questions people will tell you to not spend your time worrying about.

In the last analysis, it is our conception of death which decides our answers to all the questions that life puts to us.

You realize mortality is everywhere.

You are not a beautiful, unique snowflake... This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

I'm just observing the world. I was born into it, like you were, and then I found out there were some really disturbing aspects to being alive, like the fact that you weren't going to be alive forever - that bothered me.

Woe, woe, woe... in a little while we shall all be dead. Therefore let us behave as though we were dead already.

I like things that are just about to go. Everything's leaving. Death is never far away from me. When you make something, death can't help but be in it.

I would love to have faith. When you take God out of the universe, there is no-one taking care us - we are just parcels of meat, collections of atoms - we have a little flowering on Earth, and then we're gone.

The elimination of the fear of death transforms the individual's way of being in the world.

Everyone wants to escape, everyone's drawn to escapism to leave their lives for an hour or two, and we're all so curious as human beings.

Everything that gets born dies.

A man does not die of love or his liver or even of old age; he dies of being a man.

Property is unstable, and youth perishes in a moment. Life itself is held in the grinning fangs of Death, Yet men delay to obtain release from the world. Alas, the conduct of mankind is surprising.