John Niven Quotes

I say to people who care for people who are dying, if you really love that person and want to help them, be with them when their end comes close. Sit with them - you don't even have to talk. You don't have to do anything but really be there with them.

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.

They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days.

I visited Jobs for the last time in his Palo Alto, Calif., home. He had moved to a downstairs bedroom because he was too weak to go up and down stairs. He was curled up in some pain, but his mind was still sharp and his humor vibrant.

It's not like he called me up and asked me. They've never wanted to throw us into that world, and I think our decision probably shocked them. But I love my dad, and I think I'd regret it if I didn't do this.

I try not to spend too much time with regret, although I wish I'd had more hang time with my dad.

I've been there for a couple of people when they were dying; it didn't look like fun. But if I was gonna do it, I'd want someone like me around. And I will be there!

My father died five days before I returned to New York. He was only fifty-three years old. My parents and my father's doctor had all decided it was wiser for me to go to South America than to stay home and see Papa waste away. For a long time, I felt an enormous sense of guilt about having left my father's side when he was so sick.

My father, I spent a lot of time with him at the hospital. I was with him when he took his last breath, but I felt something coming from him into my hand and into my body.

My relationship with my dad was a little rocky, sure. The time that I spent with him was basically two hours of Little League practice, six or seven days a week, from the age of five until whenever. If we lost, there was no talking the whole way home. But that seemed normal to me.

I'm trying to surround myself during my life with the eight people I'd surround my bed with on my death.

Go away. I'm all right. [last words]

Don't blink. You just might miss your babies growing like mine did. Turning into moms and dads next thing you know your 'better half' Of fifty years is there in bed. And you're praying God takes you instead. Trust me friend a hundred years goes faster than you think So don't blink.

Only the dying man can tell how much time he has left.

I was born at a very early age. Before I had time to regret it, I was four and a half years old.

It's of being alone with my dad. He drove a truck for a living. But he had a few free hours in the middle of the day, between the morning shift and the late afternoon shift. Because I was the youngest of nine, I could have him all to myself when they were at school. We'd watch movies at home, or go to the movies, and he introduced me to the guys who still inspire me today.

I can't get over this. Dad isn't Sam's dad? Dad is a friend? How was I supposed to know that? People shouldn't be allowed to sign themselves as Dad unless they are your dad. It should be the law.

My father was a management genius. But what I really wanted was a dad.

My son's dad is committed, and involved, and amazing. We're actually really good friends. But I think it's dangerous to speak negatively to the child about your ex or the absent parent, because, believe it or not, they learn very quickly who the other parent is. And it's important that they develop their own attitudes and opinions about that other parent based on their experiences, not based on what someone has said about them.

Despite everything my mom and doctor and dad have said to me about blame, I can't stop thinking what I know. And I know that my aunt Helen would still be alive today if she just bought me one present like everybody else. She would be alive if I were born on a day that didn't snow.

I needed to temper (my dad's) enthusiasm a bit (about attending Princeton), and so I announced that I would be majoring in patricide...My mom was actually jealous.

My dad's dying wish was to have his family around him. I can't help thinking he would have been better off with more oxygen.

Time will say nothing but I told you so.

You count the hours you could have spent with your mother. It's a lifetime in itself.