J. R. R. Tolkien Quotes

Every day travels toward death; the last only arrives at it.

And he isn't crying for her, not for his grandma, he's crying for himself: that he: too, is going to die one day. And before that his friends wil die, and the friends of his friends, and, as time passes, the children of his friends, and, if his fate is truly bitter, his own children. (58)

Death is so genuine a fact that it excludes falsehoods, or betrays its emptiness; it is a touchstone that proves the gold, and dishonors the baser metal.

I'm writing this book because we're all going to die.

But death we are, and death we've always been.

Well, that’s that, then. We’re all going to die. Charming.

There is no such thing as a natural death: nothing that happens to a man is ever natural, since his presence calls the world into question. All men must die: but for every man his death is an accident and, even if he knows it and consents to it, an unjustifiable violation.

Even Rome cannot grant us a dispensation from death.

We are fastened to a dying animal.

While life could be evaded, death could not.

We all labor against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases.

The fact that we die is one of the more interesting things that happen to us. Fiction ought to be about bottom lines, and that's as bottom-line as you can get.

No one can outrun death. It will catch up to all of us eventually.

We are made to be immortal, and yet we die. It's horrible, it can't be taken seriously

No thought is born in me that does not bear the image of death.

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?

The only certainty life contains is death.

Death is the only inescapable, unavoidable, sure thing. We are sentenced to die the day we're born.

Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!

We are dying, we are dying, piecemeal our bodies are dying and our strength leaves us, and our soul cowers naked in the dark rain over the flood, cowering in the last branches of the tree of our life.

He that is once borne, once must dy.

No one gets out of here alive.

Let this be my final lesson. Everyone and everything has a time to die.

A short death is the sovereign good hap of human life.

I was dying. Like all the other people who live in this world.