Paul Harvey Quotes

Let no man's deathbed be a futon.

We usually say of ancient persons, that they have already one foot in the grave, and the rest of their life is nothing else but the bringing of these feet together.

I am dying, Egypt, dying.

This is a story about a man named Eddie and it begins at the end, with Eddie dying in the sun.

You know you're getting old when you go to more funerals than you do weddings.

It seems like people are just dropping off the Earth. I suppose that happens when you get older. It's part of life. No one's getting out of it.

Death means that a form of life dissolves or that the imminent possibility of dissolution exists, whether through our own death or through illness or old age.

I know my life is nearing its end and I accept that.

Death was like love, a romantic escape.

I guess I'd like to get old and die, in that order.

I think that retirement is the first step towards the grave.

You feel a sense of urgency, especially at my advanced age, when you're staring into the grave.

Have you ever thought about those last moments of your life? Nobody wants a long, lingering illness; nobody wants just that; but it would be nice if you could have a day or two where you know it's coming.

Come to think of it, Pasadena's as good a place to die as any.

To retire is to begin to die.

Listen, I must be 110 by now. Granny is going to kick the bucket at some point.

Sooner or later I'm going to die, but I'm not going to retire.

If you don't know how to die, don't worry; Nature will tell you what to do on the spot, fully and adequately. She will do this job perfectly for you; don't bother your head about it.

Dying is one of the few things that can be done as easily lying down.

Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.

I’m ready to die. I hope it’s not too uncomfortable.

Why, I am about doing very well, for I am preparing myself, sir, for a place where hardly any majors, and very few Lieutenant-Generals go. God save us, why should there be such a bustle about the taking off of an old grey head that cannot get up three steps without two men to support it?

My next book's title is going to be, 'I Have One Foot in the Grave and Another on a Banana Peel.'

My father passed away at, like, 87.

Life is better than death. But death comes eventually to everyone. It is something which many in their prime may prefer not to think about. But at 89, I see no point in avoiding the question. What concerns me is: How do I go? Will the end comes swiftly, with a stroke in one of the coronary arteries? Or will it be a stroke in the mind that lays me out in bed for months, semi-comatose? Of the two, I prefer the quick one.