Quotes About Dies

Weakness is a great thing, and strength is nothing. When a man is just born, he is weak and flexible. When he dies, he is hard and insensitive. When a tree is growing, it's tender and pliant. But when it's dry and hard, it dies. Hardness and strength are death's companions. Pliancy and weakness are expressions of the freshness of being. Because what has hardened will never win.

But who does not see that the work goes beyond the one who created it? It marches before him and he will never again be able to catch up with it, it soon leaves his orbit, it will soon belong to another, since he, more quickly than his work, changes and becomes deformed, since before his work dies, he dies.

He who is silent and bows his head dies every time he does so. He who speaks aloud and walks with his head held high dies only once.

there is something shameful about the death of a play. It does not die with pity, but contempt. A book may fail, but who is there to know it? It dies and is buried, and is decently interred on the bookseller's shelf; but the play dies to laughter, to scorn and disdain.

When belief in a god dies, the god dies.

Some critics of racing witlessly claim that spectators only attend to see someone die. This is utter and complete nonsense. I have been at numerous races where death is present. When a driver dies, the crowd symbolically dies, too. They come to see action at the brink: ultimate risk taking and the display of skill and bravery embodied in the sport's immortals like Nuvolari, Foyt, and thousands of others who operate at the ragged edge.

A man who lives unrelated to other human beings dies. But a man who lives unrelated to himself also dies.

When a man dies, he does not just die of the disease he has: he dies of his whole life.

The man who dies rich, dies disgraced.

And then his noise falls completely silent- And he stops struggling- And looking right into my eyes- He dies. My Todd dies.

If the body dies, it does no harm to the mind, but if the mind dies, one can no longer act as a man even though the body survives.

When the love of your life dies, the problem is not that some part of you dies too, which it does, but that some part of you is still alive.

Most people die before they are fully born. Creativeness means to be born before one dies.

From every ruin, life springs up again and everything that dies is born again.

John Lilly suggests whales are a culture maintained by oral traditions. Stories. The experience of an individual whale is valuable to the survival of its community. I think of my family stories-Mother's in particular-how much I need them now, how much I will need them later. It has been said when an individual dies, whole worlds die with them. The same could be said of each passing whale.

When you keep it within the walls, it dies. When you take it out where Jesus intended it to be, it happens.

Energy can't be destroyed, only converted into something different. So when a person dies, where does that energy go?

A nation dies culturally and spiritually first. Its money and its army are the last to go, but go they do once the light goes out in the nation's soul.

I don't trust tragedies much. It's easy to make a person sad by showing him something tragic. We all recognize when sad things happen: someone dies, someone loses a loved one, young love is crushed. It's much harder to make a man laugh-what's funny to one person isn't funny to another.

I live in a pretty liberal place, so it's a lot of hidden racism and things like that. If you really look up California, it's a really shitty place when it comes to things like that. So I think it will just take time. Old people have to die. Once the generation right under my Mom dies, we'll be fine.

Usually action films have a formula: good guy gets in trouble, his wife dies, friends have problems, so he goes to the mountain, learns martial arts, comes back, and kills the bad guy.

Life’s not a video game, Felix- there aren’t a certain number of points that send you to the next level. There isn’t actually any next level. The bad news is that everybody dies at the end. Game Over.

The thing that always interests me from a storytelling point of view is how that moment of trauma, whatever the trauma is, even divorce, your dog dies, whatever it is, the consequence, in terms of people's emotional lives and the way it resonates behaviorally for a long time is really the stuff that interests me.

The hardest thing as an actor is that you work really hard constantly for these roles, and you invest so much in it. And when they don't come to fruition and nobody sees them, there's a part of you that dies a little bit. It's like, 'Ah! But I worked so hard!' But that's the business.

One always dies too soon or too late. And yet, life is there, finished: the line is drawn, and it must all be added up. You are nothing other than your life.

Fame! it is the flower of a day, that dies when the next sun rises.

Postfix keeps running even if one Postfix process dies; Windows requires that someone restarts the service.

I don't fear for a physical death, but when my conscience dies, that is a real death

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave - now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth.

The Ku Klux Klan never dies. They just stop wearing sheets because sheets cost too much.

So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.

Teas, Where small talk dies in agonies.

Do you wish to become rich? You may become rich, that is, if you desire it in no half way, but thoroughly. A miser sacrifices all to his single passion; hoards farthings and dies possessed of wealth. Do you wish to master any science or accomplishment? Give yourself to it and it lies beneath your feet. Time and pains will do anything. This world is given as the prize for the men in earnest; and that which is true of this world is truer still of the world to come.

March 16th, Mike Tyson [vs.] Razor Ruddock, Razor Ruddock dies. If he doesn't die, it doesn't count. If he's not dead, it doesn't count.

That which we do for ourselves dies with us … that which we do for others lives forever.

It's like having a pet dog for a long time. You get attached to it, and when it dies you miss it.

I've read Flowers in the Attic and The Other Side of Midnight and Go Ask Alice and I don't want to read any more books where the girl dies in the end.

There must be some unwritten law that says about fifty people have to move into your house when somebody dies. If it weren't for the smell of death clinging to the walls, you might think it was your family's turn to host the month neighborhood potluck supper.

The heart wants to go on; that is its dharma. For unless it moves, it dies.

Then he releases a dove and dies while sitting in a rain storm

Jesse has a new dog. You may have noticed that his former pets have been peculiarly unfortunate. When this dog dies every employee in the White House will be at once discharged.

When someone we love dies, we get so busy mourning what died that we ignore what didn't.

Without free speech no search for Truth is possible; without free speech no discovery of Truth is useful; without free speech progress is checked, and the nations no longer march forward towards the nobler life which the future holds for man. Better a thousandfold abuse of free speech than denial of free speech. The abuse dies in a day; but the denial stays the life of the people and entombs the hope of the race.

One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life.

He who flies can also return; but it is not so with him who dies.

My mother helped me to get past that. She was always there for me, until she dies. I remember she told me once, about big hearts and small hearts, and that not everyone could be blessed with a big one that had room to care for a lot of people. She promised me that mine was big, and that I was the lucky one for it.

One dies if necessary, one breaks rather than bending. But I bend, because I continue to love myself.

He that dies a martyr proves that he was not a knave, but by no means that he was not a fool.