death-wish

What if I just want to die?""Then I will be sad and disappointed that you cheated yourself out of your chance at existence. Not all of us have that opportunity, you know, to choose life.

Death breached the silence first. 'Mortals are always calling for me,' he said, 'Especially mortals whose suffering is very great, and especially mortals whose suffering is of their own making, and especially mortals who have never known suffering.

Maybe my dissertation really had been as brilliant as he claimed, the truth was I remember almost nothing about it; the intellectual leaps I made when I was young were a distant memory to me, and now I was surrounded by a kind of aura, when really my only goal in life was to do a little reading and get in bed at four in the afternoon with a carton of cigarettes and a bottle; and yet, at the same time, I had to admit, I was going to die if I kept that up _ I was going to die fast, unhappy and alone. And did I really want to die fast, unhappy and alone? In the end, only kind of.

The dead only knows their world.

No. Not a death wish. Just very little left to lose.

There is absolutely no worse death curse than the humdrum daily existence of the living dead.

Life on earth is temporary. May we pursue peace and live in harmony with one another.

At the end of life, nobody knows where the spirit goes.

If you have few days to live your life, what will be your passion for last days?

We must be conscious of this; one day, the life we have, will be gone.

The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.

Everyone__ mind has sort of a slum division__ flirtatious spot that doesn__ give a hoot about how grave a situation is but constantly endeavors to derail more earnest thoughts, almost like a death-wish backseat driver.

The graveyard is the everlasting home of every man.

Pitiful and pitied by no one, why have I come to the ignominy of this detestable old age, who was ruler of two kingdoms, mother of two kings? My guts are torn from me, my family is carried off and removed from me. The young king [crown prince Henry, _1183] and the count of Britanny [prince Geoffrey, _1186] sleep in dust, and their most unhappy mother is compelled to be irremediably tormented by the memory of the dead. Two sons remain to my solace, who today survive to punish me, miserable and condemned. King Richard [the Lionheart] is held in chains [in captivity with Emperor Henry VI of Germany]. His brother, John, depletes his kingdom with iron [the sword] and lays it waste with fire. In all things the Lord has turned cruel to me and attacked me with the harshness of his hand. Truly his wrath battles against me: my sons fight amongst themselves, if it is a fight where where one is restrained in chains, the other, adding sorrow to sorrow, undertakes to usurp the kingdom of the exile by cruel tyranny. Good Jesus, who will grant that you protect me in hell and hide me until your fury passes, until the arrows which are in me cease, by which my whole spirit is sucked

I often think about this, that is, I imagine to myself that here is Vera, dead, totally motionless, lying on the table, in a coffin... and I too, of course can no longer live. But for some reason this gives me pleasure, a terrible amount of pleasure to imagine so the one I love: earlier I imagined grandmother and then my fiance in this manner, even my favorite animals, Sparky our cat with the fiery bursts of red on his gray-black fur.("Thirty-Three Abominations")

My father was a doctor,' she says, 'a very kind man. He died in the early '70s, relatively young.' She taps the cigarette packet on the table. 'Of lung cancer.''Oh.''But the thing about that is,' she says as she exhales, 'it doesn't take very long at all.

Oh dire, dreadful death, you drag your heels.Why dawdle and draw back? You drown my heart.