life-and-death

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

But she went to tell the bees. She felt like an idiot doing it, but she'd promised. She remembered that it wasn't enough just to think at them: you had to say the words out loud. Bees were the messengers between this world and the other worlds, Pilar had said. Between the living and the dead. They carried the Word made air.

You will die but the words you speak or spoke, will live forever.

Two Songs For The World's End I Bombs ripen on the leafless tree under which the children play. And there my darling all alone dances in the spying day. I gave her nerves to feel her pain, I put her mortal beauty on. I taught her love that hate might find, its black work the easier done. I sent her out alone to play; and I must watch, and I must hear, how underneath the leafless tree, the children dance and sing with Fear. II Lighted by the rage of time where the blind and dying weep, in my shadow take your sleep, though wakeful I. Sleep unhearing while I pray - Should the red tent of the sky fall to fold your time away, wake to weep before you die. Die believing all is true that love your maker said to you Still believe that had you lived you would have found love, world, sight, sound, sorrow, beauty - all true. Grieve for death your moment - grieve. The world, the lover you must take, is the murderer you will meet. But if you die before you wake never think death sweet.

Not accomplishing your Life Plan is a tragic act of free will. It is akin to charting an elaborate vacation itinerary before arriving at your holiday destination, with all kinds of plans for outdoor adventures and intentions to go sightseeing and shopping, but then ending up spending the whole trip in your hotel room ordering from room service and watching television. In a similar fashion the unconscious soul spends a lifetime in the semi-conscious state of Divine Disconnection and then returns home mostly __mpty-handed_.

We're always on breath away from something--living or dying--, sometimes it just can't be helped.

The worker picked up Pakhom__ spade, dug a grave, and buried him - six feet from head to heel, exactly the amount of land a man needs.

Does this world feel like hell to you? Of course it does, because it is.

The only dream worth having, I told her, is to dream that you will live while you're alive and die only when you're dead.

In our lives we know joy, anger, sorrow, and a hundred other emotions, but these emotions altogether occupy a bare one per cent of our time. The remaining ninety-nine per cent is just living in waiting.

There is a very, narrow, thinness of line between the living and the dead; actually, it's just a lack of a heartbeat away.

It is painful for the plant which is myself to live in the atmosphere and light of this world. Somewhere an element is lacking which would permit me to continue.

Death does not come when the body is too exausted to live.Death comes because the brilliance inside of us can only be contained for so long.We do not die.We pass on.Pass on the life burning through our throats.When you leave me, I will not cry for you.I will run into the strongest wind I can find and welcome you home.

It__ a funny thing, one day you__e living and the next day you__e not sometimes, whether you have plans or not. Wishes and wants get trumped by the reaper every time. I don__ even know if I would want a warning if it was my time. I think I__ rather be surprised.

That's what it means to die, to not be able to stop looking at whatever's in front of you. Some darn thing placed directly there, with nothing you can do about it...

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Death is only as strong as you believe it to be.

Life begins at the day of birth. Birthday is a great day of honour.