Sheldon Jackson Quotes

The sun's going down and we can't afford to come back to it tomorrow.

The night cometh when no man can work.

You've got a deadline. Well, I do, too: death.

The longest Day hath an Eueninge.

Humans all want to beat the clock but nobody ever does.

The last act is bloody, however pleasant all the rest of the play is: a little earth is thrown at last upon our head, and that is the end forever.

We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death.

Get up! I am going to die today.

Time is not a friend.

Whatever we try - to be rich, to be happy - death is unavoidable. It doesn't matter how much money you have; it doesn't matter how much love you have. At the end of the day, it's all heading that way.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.

That’s what death did, it treated you like a child, like everything you had ever thought and done and cared about was just a child’s game, to be crumpled up and thrown away when it was over. It didn’t matter. Death didn’t respect you. Death thought you were bullshit, and it wanted to make sure you knew it.

By the time you get close to the answers, it's nearly all over.

Life and hope must cease together.

A decision will be made before it's too late or soon thereafter.

It's not dark yet But it's getting there

The ever-present expectancy of death is never far removed from any of us - whether we realize it or not. None of us can avoid it. It comes alike to the great and to the unknown; to the righteous and to the unrighteous. Wherein we differ is not in our ability to avert it, but in the preparedness with which we meet it. At such times some question the judgments of God. Some find bitterness because of the circumstances and because of the seeming untimeliness of death.

When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud And goes down burning into the gulf below, No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud At what has happened. Birds, at least must know It is the change to darkness in the sky. Murmuring something quiet in her breast, One bird begins to close a faded eye; Or overtaken too far from his nest, Hurrying low above the grove, some waif Swoops just in time to his remembered tree. At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. Let the night be too dark for me to see Into the future. Let what will be, be.

Each day is born with a sunrise and ends in a sunset, the same way we open our eyes to see the light, and close them to hear the dark. You have no control over how your story begins or ends. But by now, you should know that all things have an ending. Every spark returns to darkness. Every sound returns to silence. Every flower returns to sleep with the earth. The journey of the sun and moon is predictable. But yours, is your ultimate ART.

We must play as if there are no more games, no more tomorrows.

The window is closing.

When it’s time, it’s time … and it’s time.

Night falls fast. Today is the past.

In her way, she was a hard one. Faith in any sort of natural justice was nothing but a night light; she knew of that. Whatever she did, she would end the same way with everyone does: flat on her back with a tube in her nose, wondering, "Is this all?