Charles Ray Quotes

From death's perspective, there are no differences between people; there are no presidents or flight attendants, no faiths or nations. There is just the person, always dear.

And introduce an element of cynicism and darkness into it and just realize that we're all vulnerable. We are humans. There is a finite end to this life and we're all going to face it and a little silliness can help.

All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.

I have thought there was some advantage even in death, by which we mingle with the herd of common men.

At the end of the day, we came into the world naked, and that's the way we're going to go.

I hate Sridevi. I hate her for making me realise that she, too, is finally only just a human being. I hate that her heart, too, has to beat to live.

It doesn't matter what you believe in or where you're from. It doesn't matter what group you're in: we're all the same. We all end up in the same-sized box.

The impartial earth opens alike for the child of the pauper and the king.

But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.

We're all of us equally naked before the jaws of pain.

No Difference Small as a peanut, Big as a giant, We're all the same size When we turn off the light. Rich as a sultan, Poor as a mite, We're all worth the same When we turn off the light. Red, black or orange, Yellow or white, We all look the same When we turn off the light. So maybe the way, To make everything right Is for god to just reach out And turn off the light!

ashes or diamonds foe or friend we're all equal in the end

When you're in bed, you're dead

Sleep is death's younger brother, and so like him, that I never dare trust him without my prayers.

The tall, the wise, the reverend head Must lie as low as ours.

My mother, Abra, had taught me that all people are made from the same dust. When our days here are gone, all men and women enter the same garden.

The earth opens impartially her bosom to receive the beggar and the prince.

Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.

Sometime I’ll lay down my wrath, As I lay my body down Between the ache of breath and breath, Golden slumber in the bone.

Sleep is death without the responsibility.

There's no victory-condition for being human.

And so I fell devoutly asleep and slept a long time, because young people seem to need sleep more than the old, who have already slept so much and are preparing to sleep for all eternity.

Those who die, merely suffering the woes of life like cats and dogs, are they men?

Truly, whoever we are, wherever we reside, we exist upon the whim of murderers.

And soon all of us will sleep under the earth, we who never let each other sleep above it.