Rick Riordan Quotes

We each die countless little deaths on our way to the last. We die out of shame as humiliation. We perish from despair. And, of course, we die for love.

Wait. You don't understand. I just wanted it to stop. Wanted the hurting to stop." I smoothed a bloodied lock of hair from her eyes and felt very tired as I said, "The only people who never hurt are dead." The light died out of her eyes, her breath slowing. She whispered, barely audible, "I don't understand." I answered, "I don't either." A tear slid from her eye and mixed with the blood. Then she died.

Death is not the worst sorrow.

Sorrow lies like a heartbeat behind everything I have written.

Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.

In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality.

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

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

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

Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die.

I envy the dead.

The horror of a death without dignity has so much implications for the people who are left behind.

To me, death is dark, pain, grief.

I can feel myself dying inside.

With 'Hereditary', I wanted to make a film about what bothers me about life.

You don't get dead and there not be consequences.

I feel hurt and pain times a million, all the time.

When I'm in pain and grief and despair, my throat is clenched and my heart hurts.

What need is there to weep over parts of life? The whole of it calls for tears.

I know what it's like to see one's mother go through the agony of death and be unable to help; there is no consolation. We all have to bear such heavy burdens, for they are unalterably linked to life.

For the living, death is thievery.

We were born to die; we were born to endure, on the way to death, sorrow-sorrow in manifold shapes.

The dead do not hurt you; only the living do.

Death straps me to the hospital bed, claws its way onto my chest and sits there.I didn't know it would hurt this much. I didn't know that everything good that's ever happened in my life would be emptied out by it.

The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket.