Marcus Brigstocke Quotes

I envy the dead.

Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?

I long for the time of no more departures. It has something to do with age, probably.

Nothing can be sadder or more profound than to see a thousand things for the first and last time.

I don't mourn the loss of my childhood; I mourn because everything, including (my) childhood, is lost.

After a while I started to think of that as an image of something that went a lot deeper than the dead dog, which is you can't bring back anything to life.

While I understand that all things must come to an end, whether it's a television advertisement or one's life or the world itself, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with.

I'm fascinated by failure, and I'm fascinated by finality. Shakespeare's historical plays are more universal than his comedies because they relate to the finality of life. Without finality, life would not be beautiful.

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

I don't feel scared about death, I just feel so frustrated and sad to think I won't see how stories end. My children's story. My wife's. The football. All the stories going on in the world that you're going to miss the end of.

If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars.

This is the time to remember cause it will not last forever. These are the days to hold onto cause we won't although we'll want to.

as they die, the ones we love, we lose our witnesses, our watchers, those who know and understand the tiny little meaningless patterns, those words drawn in water with a stick. And there is nothing left but the endless flow.

There is nothing steadfast in life but our memories. We are sure of keeping intact only that which we have lost.

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?

I notice the silvery hair at his temples with a tinge of sadness. Why do parents grow old? Life is a castle of lies slowly dismantled by the passage of time. I regret not spending more time looking at the people I love.

Death is an absolute marvel.

There's nothing glamorous about being dead.

Something that required the best of you has ended. You will miss it.

I don't think of death in a romantic way anymore.

We die only once, and for such a long time.

People come. They go. Dying is the same as rehab or moving back to Missouri. It just means I won't be seeing them again.

And all the winds go sighing, for sweet things dying.

Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.

Death is like taking an intermission when you can't come back. I like living and being around.