Alphonse Daudet Quotes

He removed several pages of death certificates, which were picked up by another breeze and sent into the trees. Some would fall with the leaves that September. Some would fall with the trees generations later.

We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.

In the end we are all sacked and it's always awful. It is as inevitable as death following life. If you are elevated there comes a day when you are demoted. Even Prime Ministers.

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And gone my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, "Not a tear must o'er her fall; He giveth His beloved sleep.

Suddenly it was fall, the season of death, the anniversary of things-going-to-hell.

I've not really had a bad Christmas. Apart from serious things, like when my father died. He rather spoiled the party and I've never forgiven him for falling off the twig on Christmas Day.

Then, with an enormous rush of meadow-filled wind, the green candle went out, and my best friend died.

There is a silence so great that I can hear the ice crystals cracking and falling from eyelashes of girls who will never blink again.

As the end of the century approaches, all our culture is like the culture of flies at the beginning of winter. Having lost their agility, dreamy and demented, they turn slowly about the window in the first icy mists of morning. They give themselves a last wash and brush-up, their oscillated eyes roll, and they fall down the curtains.

When death comes too near, comedy and tragedy fall silent.

At the very least we want a witness. We can't stand the idea of our own voices falling silent finally, like a radio running down.

What if the leaves were to fall a-weeping, and say, "It will be so painful for us to be pulled from our stalks, when autumn comes?" Foolish fear! Summer goes, and autumn succeeds. The glory of death is upon the leaves; and the gentlest breeze that blows takes them softly and silently from the bough, and they float slowly down, like fiery sparks, upon the moss.

Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on.

Does it hurt?" The childish question had escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. "Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep.

There is something tenderly appropriate in the serene death of the old. Nothing is more touching than the death of the young, the strong.

And then his noise falls completely silent- And he stops struggling- And looking right into my eyes- He dies. My Todd dies.

I suppose he'll die soon. I'm expecting it, like you do for a dog that's seventeen. There's no way to know how I'll react. He'll have faced his own placid death and slipped without a sound inside himself. Mostly, I imagine I'll crouch there at the door, fall onto him, and cry hard into the stench of his fur. I'll wait for him to wake up, but he won't. I'll bury him. I'll carry him outside, feeling his warmth turn to cold as the horizon frays and falls down in my backyard. For now, though, he's okay. I can see him breathing. He just smells like he's dead.

Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. “Someone is dying,” thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.

I know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death, and something else I'd rather not recall just now.

Oh build your ship of death. Oh build it! For you will need it. For the voyage of oblivion awaits you.

Is it then so sad a thing to die?