Samuel Rutherford Quotes

Life is short and we have scarcely begun to live when we are called to die.

Sleep is not, death is not; Who seem to die Live. House you were born in, Friends of your spring-time, old man and young maid, Day's toil and it's guerdon, They are all vanishing, Fleeing to fables, Cannot be moored

The greatest surprise in life to me is the brevity of life.

Life's a short trip. You'll find out.

We die only once, and for such a long time.

Death is like taking an intermission when you can't come back. I like living and being around.

Life is so, so short. Bible says it's like a vapor.

Everything that gets born dies.

Death not merely ends life, it also bestows upon it a silent completeness, snatched from the hazardous flux to which all things human are subject.

We are born, we live, we disappear. One of the chilling aspects of history is the swiftness with which it carries us into oblivion.

We fear death, we shudder at life's instability, we grieve to see the flowers wilt again and again, and the leaves fall, and in our hearts we know that we, too, are transitory and will soon disappear. When artists create pictures and thinkers search for laws and formulate thoughts, it is in order to salvage something from the great dance of death, to make something last longer than we do.

Death, thou art infinite; it is life is little.

Just as a line drawn on water with a stick will quickly vanish and will not last long; even so, brahmins, is human life like a line drawn on water. It is short, limited, and brief; it is full of suffering. One should do good and live a pure life; for none who is born can escape death.

The last to be overcome is death, and the knowledge of life is the knowledge of death.

Life is short. It can come and go like a feather in the wind.

Lives are mere blips on the canvas of eternity.

Go and try to disprove death. Death will disprove you, and that's all!

Long life, and short, are by death made all one; for there is no long, nor short, to things that are no more.

No one loses any other life than the one he now lives, nor does one live any other life than that which he will lose.

Someone dying asks if there is life after death. Yes, comes the answer, only not yours.

The plain truth is we are going to die. Here I am, a teeny spec surrounded by boundless space and time, arguing with the whole of creation, shaking my fist, sputtering, growing even eloquent at times, and then-poof! I am gone. Swept off once and for all. I think that is very, very funny.

Some men spend their whole life furnishing for themselves the things proper to life without realizing that at our birth each of us was poured a mortal brew to drink.

Life is but sighs; and, when they cease, 'tis over.

Life is only precious because it ends, kid.