Quotes About Dies

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.

When belief in a god dies, the god dies.

We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. When the loyal opposition dies, I think the soul of America dies with it.

When a language dies, a way of understanding the world dies with it, a way of looking at the world.

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

What does she (J. K. Rowling) hope people will take with them about this time? “When all the fuss and hoopla dies away, and when all the press commentary dies away, I think it will be seen that this phenomenon was generated, in the first instance, by kids loving a book. A book went on shelves, and a few people loved it. When all of the smoke and lights die away, that’s what you’ll be left with. “And that’s the most wonderful thought for an author.

It is not by great acts but by small failures that freedom dies. The sense of justice dies slowly in a people. They grow used to the unthinkable, and sometimes they may look back and even wonder when things changed. They will not find a day or a time or a place. Justice and liberty die quietly, because men first learn to ignore injustice and then no longer recognize it.

When a relationship dies do we ever really give up the ghost or are we forever haunted by the spirits of relationships past?

When we were all getting ready to leave, I walked up to my grandfather and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. He wiped my lip print off with his palm and gave me a look. He doesn't like the boys in the family to touch him. But I'm very glad that I did it anyway in case he dies. I never got to do that with my Aunt Helen.

If a man is fortunate he will, before he dies, gather up as much as he can of his civilized heritage and transmit it to his children.

There are three sayings I live by, and one of them is 'The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.' That's what losing a job is like. That's why we have to bring them back.

Self-assertion may deceive the ignorant for a time; but when the noise dies away, we cut open the drum, and find it was emptiness that made the music.

A woman is a woman until the day she dies, but a man's man only as long as he can

How could poetry and literature have arisen from something as plebian as the cuneiform equivalent of grocery-store bar codes? I prefer the version in which Prometheus brought writing to man from the gods. But then I remind myself that...we should not be too fastidious about where great ideas come from. Ultimately, they all come from a wrinkled organ that at its healthiest has the color and consistency of toothpaste, and in the end only withers and dies.

The further humans move from hunters to horticulturists to agriculturists to urbanisation to industrialists, the further the sacred recedes, first to heaven, then condensed to monotheism and finally it dies in irony.

Fruits fail and love dies and time ranges;Thou art fed with perpetual breath, and alive after infinite changes,And fresh from the kisses of death,Of langours rekindled and rallied, Of barren delights and unclean,Things monstrous and fruitless, a pallidAnd poisonous queen.

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.

Every time I use an app, part of my brain dies! We'll get to the point where we go to bed and wonder: 'Did I have a thought today?' You'll have to go to your 'Thought' app!

How can He be perfect? Everything He ever makes...dies.

The more extreme and the more expressed that passion is, the more unbearable does life seem without it. It reminds us that if passion dies or is denied, we are partly dead.

What you do for yourself is fleeting and dies with you. What you do for others has unending benefit and is eternal.

Teas, Where small talk dies in agonies.

All her knowledge is gone now. Everything she ever learned, or heard, or saw. Her particular way of looking at Hamlet or daisies or thinking about love, all her private intricate thoughts, her inconsequential secret musings – they’re gone too. I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I’m watching it burn right to the ground.

God, I hope he dies the night before one of his kids get married.

The education of a man is never completed until he dies.

She who dies with the most stilettos wins.

The Forgotten Man... works, he votes, generally he prays-but he always pays-yes, above all, he pays. He does not want an office; his name never gets into the newspaper except when he gets married or dies. He keeps production going on.... He does not frequent the grocery or talk politics at the tavern. Consequently, he is forgotten.... All the burdens fall on him, or on her, for it is time to remember that the Forgotten Man is not seldom a woman.

So when a great man dies For years beyond our ken The light he leaves behind him lies Upon the paths of men.

Where unwilling dies the rose; buds the new another year.

I want you here. I don't care if it's a hundred degrees and every blade of grass dies. Without you, none of that matters to me.

When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth.

If you worshipped Muhammad, know that Muhammad is dead. But if you worshipped Allah, know that Allah never dies.

A good dog never dies. He always stays. He walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter's drawing near. His head is within our hand in his old way.

I want to show to those who deprive people the right to love of country, that when we know how to sacrifice ourselves for our duties and convictions, death does not matter if one dies for those one loves – for his country and for others dear to him.

Take care to sell your horse before he dies. The art of life is passing losses on.

We unjustly defraud God of his right, unless each of us lives and dies in dependence on His sovereign pleasure.

When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming.

Love dies because its birth was an error.

When they [Democrats] running all these ads that are characterizing [Mitt] Romney as a rich, insensitive, out of touch, aloof nerd who loved having his dog on the roof of the station wagon, who didn't care when the wife of an employee dies with cancer.

In my twisted brain, I truly believe that nobody ever really dies, as long as the people that he or she touched continue to spread their legacy. I miss Eddie Guerrero. Eddie Guerrero was a great man. So right now, I don't want to hear 'CM Punk', you know the name I wanna hear.

It was like wondering how evil had come into the world or what happens to a person after he dies: an interesting philosophical exercise, but also curiously pointless, since evil and death happened, regardless of the why and the how and what-it-meant.

Just as the commandment 'Thou shalt not kill' sets a clear limit in order to safeguard the value of human life, today we also have to say 'thou shalt not' to an economy of exclusion and inequality. Such an economy kills. How can it be that it is not a news item when an elderly homeless person dies of exposure, but it is news when the stock market loses two points?

The genuine essence of truth never dies.

Our ego never wants to die and it will do anything to prolong its life. But the truth is, we are both spirit and ego and you have to have a balance between the two. Your spirit never dies, but the ego is all about beginnings and ends.

Man is born in a day, and he dies in a day, and the thing is easily over; but to have a sick heart for three-fourths of one's lifetime is simply to have death renewed every morning; and life at that price is not worth living.

Deep in my heart subsides the infrequent word, And there dies slowly throbbing like a wounded bird.

Were a star quenched on high,For ages would its light,Still travelling downward from the sky,Shine on our mortal sight. So when a great man dies,For years beyond our ken,The light he leaves behind him liesUpon the paths of men.

When the first living thing existed, I was there waiting. When the last living thing dies, my job will be finished. I'll put the chairs on the tables, turn out the lights and lock the universe behind me when I leave.