Martin Luther Quotes

Everyone knows they re going to die,' he said again, 'but nobody believes it. If we did, we would do things differently.

There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, but Death you shall not.

Against other things it is possible to obtain security, but when it comes to death we human beings all live in an unwalled city.

It is hard for anyone under twenty to realise that death has already assigned them a number, which is going to come up one day.

Death... The moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.

Everybody will die, but very few people want to be reminded of that fact.

I carry the seeds of death within me and plant them wherever I linger long enough to love.

Well, there's a remedy for all things but death, which will be sure to lay us flat one time or other.

Even at our birth, death does but stand aside a little. And every day he looks towards us and muses somewhat to himself whether that day or the next he will draw nigh.

Anyone can stop a man's life, but no one his death; a thousand doors open on to it.

I'm afraid of death... Yes, but that doesn't stop death coming.

Death is more certain than the morrow, than night following day, than winter following summer. Why is it then that we prepare for the night and for the winter time, but do not prepare for death. We must prepare for death. But there is only one way to prepare for death - and that is to live well.

I will be dead in a few months. But it hasn't given me the slightest anxiety or worry. I always knew I was going to die.

I feel strongly, because a man who will himself die one day in the not to distant future and, also, as a psychiatrist who spent decades dealing with death anxiety, that confronting death allows us, not to open some noisome, Pandora's box, but to re-enter life in a richer, more compassionate manner.

and realized that death was not only a permanent probability, as he had always believed, but an immediate reality.

As one gets older, this question of death, becomes more vexing and urgent.

I'm writing this book because we're all going to die.

I am about to die. It is September 11, and every cell in my body is acutely aware of my looming demise. The certainty of it. The inevitability. Not years from now, not weeks nor days. Moments.

It is a sad weakness in us, after all, that the thought of a man's death hallows him anew to us; as if life were not sacred too.

I used to think of deathlike I suppose soldiers think of it: it was a possible thing that I could well avoid by my skill.

Thus, I always began by assuming the worst; my appeal was dismissed. That meant, of course, I was to die. Sooner than others, obviously. 'But,' I reminded myself, 'it's common knowledge that life isn't worth living, anyhow.' And, on a wide view, I could see that it makes little difference whether one dies at the age of thirty or threescore and ten-- since, in either case, other men will continue living, the world will go on as before. Also, whether I died now or forty years hence, this business of dying had to be got through, inevitably.

Everybody dies; that's a fact. Sometimes it blindsides people. Sometimes people get a glimpse of the big picture and decide to cheat.

Any man who has seen the face of death knows better than to seek him out a second time.

Man reckons with immortality, and forgets to reckon with death.