Death Is But The Next Great Adventure Novels & Stories

When life stumbles On a stone I don’t get a picture of a tomb anymore. I know I have grown! I believe I will grow. Death cannot kill me anymore. Death cannot kill me anymore. A world of advanced stature awaits me! As I multiply, I will be infinity one day. I won’t die nor decay in my grave. I will fight for life. I will fight death on its way. Hey! I won’t die in any evil way. I need to live long. I have no greed but joy in living long. I too should see the world advancing beyond the hold of any rope or sword. I too, should experience peace in its growth. I be lavish is not the need. I am surviving is enough for me. I am surviving is enough for me. I do not want to leave for the grave. Hey,

Matilda Sutton, my wife, and I are on our tenth wedding anniversary trip when the plane suddenly crashes. I hand her the last remaining parachute, only for her to scoff and ask, "What are you up to this time, Tyler?" I feel a sudden ache in my chest, knowing that Matilda has never loved me in our ten years of marriage. She has also seen me play the hero enough times that it doesn't even register anymore. But this time, it's a genuine matter of life and death. I push her out of the door right as flames engulf the cabin. "If there's a next life, I'll leave you alone, Matilda." Consciousness returns. I find that I've returned to the exact moment I'm about to propose to Matilda. I try to st

“You’ll feel fine until you don’t. The pain will come and go as the poison destroys you from the inside. Eventually, we will both die without the antidote.” I draw in a deep breath and study their serious faces for several long moments. Death isn’t all that frightening to me. Clearly, I don’t want to die—no healthy person does. But when the time comes, I’ll be content with shifting, going into the wilderness, and giving myself back to the earth as she gave to me. It’s the ultimate gift, a return to the wild that can never be taken away. When the time comes.

They say once we are given something, no matter what, it is gonna be taken back again and again, nothing is granted to last , not life nor death . Because in life and death we shall always part , it is a journey full of mysteries , isnot it? In life, we live so full just to simply die , that makes me question are we even alive in the first place , or the fateful truth we are just dead dreaming to be alive . we don't own life and we donot own death , we basically have nothing but the last moments we spent before the clock ticks .

Never Again 🌷 “It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and re-adjust the way you thought of things.”

peace of mind The soul never dies Total absence of fear No trace of regret no rings on your ear So no need to spend Yet you get the best. (Vanity upon vanity) all is vanity Death is not the end Death, the great equalizer, Takes us all in its grasp, Rich or poor, weak or strong, None can escape its clasp. It's a mystery, a puzzle, A journey we must take alone, Leaving behind loved ones, And the life that we have known. But death is not the end,

AND YET, DEATH IS THE DESTINATION WE ALL SHARE. NO ONE HAS EVER ESCAPED IT, AND THAT IS HOW IT SHOULD BE, BECAUSE DEATH IS VERY LIKELY THE SINGLE BEST INVENTION OF LIFE. IT'S LIFE'S CHANGE AGENT. IT CLEARS OUT THE OLD TO MAKE WAY FOR THE NEW -> STEVE JOBS. I poured salt on the mark. At first nothing happened. I was satisfied it was all in my head—right now I have to make up something to say so Harper won't have to bite off my head.

Our deeds, our utterances our beliefs can make or mar us when we leave the earth. 'Oh… You know, God is great, perfect and full of love! The idea that when one dies, he stays in the grave, the end of his existence, his consciousness is appalling, terrible. It’s a great thing that life continues.’ Her eyes held his lovingly, happiness beating in her chest.

She lived from the heart, lived with every fiberShe hadn’t always done it, though. After her favorite people had done it, Helen too had given up life, as if it were a low-paid job. Death is a funny thing. When someone dies, the sun rises the next morning, as if nothing has happened, and punctually it sets again at night. Even though someone is dead, the train platforms are just as busy as before. Someone has died, and the people simply go on with their daily lives. They meet up with loved ones in the evening, and continue to complain about the coffee that burns their lips, the boss who won't give them a break, the partner who almost suffocates them with love.

And death. “It’s just comfort,” Speedy said. He was alert that night, an unusual change from his drooling, incontinent self. Mykel thought about candles and about how they burned brightest just before they went out. “I don’t know if Woods would approve.” “Just half an hour. Help me walk in. I’m weak. She’s scared. The little one’s dying.” “Look, you should be resting.” “I’ll rest when I’m dead, boy,” Speedy said, letting go of Mykel’s arm. “And you’ll rest too someday. ‘Til then, let us live. No woman should cry alone in the night, not on Christmas.”