Quotes About Dying Inside Novels & Stories

But I might as well be climbing for the moon. My head banging with the effort, my throat aching, my mind clouding, I lie, inert. Do not go gentle into that good night... Rage, rage against the dying of the light... I could be angry perhaps. To die here. Like this. I never thought I would die in my bed. Much more likely I'd be gunned down. Or knifed perhaps. I'm not as young as I was. It could only be a matter of time before someone younger and faster took me down.

Moreover, I might be young but I'm not weak. "Did you see the way he held her face at the ceremony? I could tell she almost felt like dying. I really saw her eyes watered." And do I have to tell them I've felt like dying a thousand times but did not die? Metaphorically speaking, I have been stabbed in the heart a thousand times but did not die.

i can't stop thinking what should happen to me if i didn't go to the west but what could i possibly do now i will die tomorrow this cold and dark place i can't see any hope that we will leave the rotten smell of this place is littering in my body i know that i smell like dead people but i don't really care suddenly i feel like my senses shuts down all i care right now is to die in peace i want to die quietly maybe i should ask them to just stab me with their sword i don't care how many times they want to do it but at least i will not feel that my body is being buried alive to think that i would cry because my body is burning i will not die that instant and i don't want that I want to die ins

"Amazing how your brain works when you think you're dying." "Nothing profound? No deep revelations?" "Sorry to disappoint. Mostly just hoping Carson wouldn't blame himself if I didn't make it." I took another bite of sandwich. "Though I said something stupid about dancing with someone. Regrets. Being almost close to death makes you say and think about weird things." She tilted her head, curious, but I didn't elaborate. Some things were better left buried. "Well, you made it out," she said finally. "That's what matters."

"So why show yourself now? Why come back to visit my brother's grave?" Jeremy sighed softly, his tone unusually calm. "I knew it. I knew this whole thing was a trap. "But a few days ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. I don't have long left anyway. At this point, death doesn't scare me anymore. "I just thought... before I die, seeing Jason one more time would make it worthwhile." He paused, then looked up at me. "By the way, what exactly were Jason's final words before he jumped?" There was genuine curiosity mixed into his voice. Clearly, that was one of the reasons he had come.

"You'll say anything, won't you? "And on top of that, Scarlett was busy working. You're trying to pin this on her? "Are you even human?" Seth chimed in as well. "Exactly. We don't even know if this person actually died or not, and yet he's pulling this stunt to scare everyone."

She's kind of poetic, and I now have an idea where this one is coming heading, and I was right. "Zhanaia, I want you to know that life is a risk. Each of us is bound to die, though in different ways and times. Every tragic ending is not tragic at all, because it is not the ending we are talking about, but the memories we made before it ended tragically." ***** If not because of the eyeglasses I am wearing that somehow covers the dark circles under my eyes, I will surely look like a zombie, walking carelessly early in the morning in this silent street.

I will rage against the dying light. They say that life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!"

She tilted her head, a soft look on her face. "When someone you love is dying, it is their dying not yours. You're still here and alive, it's your job to keep their memory alive because nobody wants to be forgotten. Being forgotten may be worse than dying." Tiffany's eyes narrowed in thought, "It's their dying, not yours." She repeated my words. "Morning will come, it has no choice. I read that somewhere. You have to find the beauty of it because your brother and Zac wouldn't want us to stop or give up. Just because we move on with life doesn't mean they don't live in our hearts, it just means that something happened and we continue living because that's how life works."

His voice cut through everything, the ringing in my ears, the pounding of my heart. I told him the truth the same way I will tell you now. “We are dying,” I said. I could not speak it out loud because my mouth barely worked, but in my head, the words were there. Honest. “Do you understand me? This is the end.” He went very quiet after that. He let the words sit there like he was giving me the chance to hear how pathetic they sounded out loud. And then, in that low, dangerous tone that has lived in my blood my entire life, he said, (Do not insult me with that kind of talk again.)