Alice Sebold Quotes

I g-g-guess...I'm dead?" she heard her own voice call out, strangely high-pitched and thin. For a long time, she heard nothing else. And then: "Hi, Dead. I'm Dan.

The world of the dead wonʹt give you up a second time.

What's it like then?" asked Old Bailey. "Being dead?" The marquis sighed. And then he twisted his lips up into a smile, and with a glitter of his old self, he replied, "Live long enough, Old Bailey, and you can find out for yourself.

I’ve been dead for seven years, that’s as warm as they get.

The mystery of death, the riddle of how you could speak to someone and see them every day and then never again, was so impossible to fathom that of course we kept trying to figure it out, even when we were unconscious.

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear- Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.

How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.

Where do you go when you die? Ha ha. Go on, go on and tell her, Billy." Billy smiles. "You become a little voice in someone's ear telling them that things will be alright.

Things change after you die, though, I guess because dying is the loneliest thing you can do.

The great thing about the dead, they make space.

Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.

The living are just the dead on holiday

Why do people want to pretend that death is sleep? It isn't. It isn't.

I have good hope that there is something after death.

Each departed friend is a magnet that attracts us to the next world.

Tell me the truth about death. I don't know what it is. We have them, then they are gone but they stay in our minds. Their stories are part of us as long as we live and as long as we tell them or write them down.

Could the best and kindest of us who depart from the earth have an opportunity of revisiting it, I suppose he or she (assuming that any Vanity Fair feelings subsist in the sphere whither we are bound) would have a pang of mortification at finding how soon our survivors were consoled.

Death, that final evil, is one of the paths to eternity. Endless life in the conditions of our existence would be a nightmare.

With the dead there is no rivalry, with the dead there is no change.

What is death, after all? We leave only mortals behind us.

Never the grave gives back what it has won!

But death is not freedom. For a moment, it can look like freedom. But then it's death. Anything. Something. Nothing.

So when I'm killed, don't wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, don't wait for me, Or you must wait for evermore. You'll find me buried, living-dead In these verses that you've read.

Life's something we already understand. Death is a mystery.

Death and what came after death was no great mystery to Sabriel. She just wished it was.