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Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Sunday, November 15, 2020

Post #3045

Everything dies, baby, that's a fact, but maybe everything that dies someday comes back.
Atlantic City (written by Bruce Springsteen performed by The Band)


Sunday, July 19, 2020

Post #3028

We are born crying, live complaining, and die disappointed.
 —Sir William Temple

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Thursday, May 02, 2019

Post #2819

Man should ever look to his last day, and no one should be called happy before his funeral.
—Ovid

Wednesday, May 01, 2019

Post #2818

Philosophy has often attempted to repress insolence by asserting that all conditions are levelled by death; a position which, however it may deject the happy, will seldom afford much comfort to the wretched.
—Samuel Johnson

Friday, November 03, 2017

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Post #2248

Let death and exile, and all other things which appear terrible be daily before your eyes, but chiefly death, and you will never entertain any abject thought, nor too eagerly covet anything.
—Epictetus

Monday, December 19, 2016

Post #2231

Earth's highest station ends in "Here he lies."
—Edward Young

Monday, March 28, 2016

Post #2041

After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.
—William Shakespeare

Tuesday, February 02, 2016

Post #2002

Be still prepared for death—and death or life shall thereby be the sweeter.
—William Shakespeare

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Tuesday, January 05, 2016

Post #1982

While we are reasoning concerning life, life is gone; and death, though perhaps they receive him differently, yet treats alike the fool and the philosopher.
— David Hume

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Post #1703

So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.

Trouble no one about their religion: respect others in their view,
and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect
your life, beautify all things in your life.

Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of
your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you
go over the great divide. Always give a word or a sign of salute
when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a
lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for
the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the
fault lies only in yourself.

Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to
fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose
hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time
comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their
lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and
die like a hero going home.
—Chief Tecumseh

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Thursday, November 07, 2013

Post #1397

One may live as a conqueror, a king, or a magistrate; but he must die as a man.
—Daniel Webster

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Monday, April 15, 2013

Post #1232

Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.
—Zora Neale Hurston

Monday, April 30, 2012

Post #937

Don't be afraid your life will end; be afraid it will never begin.
—Grace Hansen

Thursday, December 01, 2011

Post #787

All say "How hard it is to have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.
—Mark Twain

Wednesday, October 05, 2011

Post #731

A power is passing from this earth.
—William Wordsworth

Friday, September 23, 2011

Post #719

I have a long journey to take, and must bid the company farewell.
—Sir Walter Raleigh

Monday, July 25, 2011

Post #660

A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.
—Thomas Mann

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Post #601

True sailors die on the turn of the tide, going out with the ebb.
—Sailor's saying

Thursday, July 01, 2010

Post #271

Death means nothing to us; When we are, death has not come yet, and when death has come, we no longer are.
—Epicurus

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The Penalty of Leadership

In every field of human endeavor, he that is first must perpetually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. When a man’s work becomes a standard for the whole world, it also becomes a target for the shafts of the envious few. If his work be mediocre, he will be left severely alone – if he achieve a masterpiece, it will set a million tongues a -wagging. Jealousy does not protrude its forked tongue at the artist who produces a commonplace painting. Whatsoever you write, or paint, or play, or sing, or build, no one will strive to surpass or to slander you unless your work be stamped with the seal of genius. Long, long after a great work or a good work has been done, those who are disappointed or envious, continue to cry out that it cannot be done. Spiteful little voices in the domain of art were raised against our own Whistler as a mountebank, long after the big world had acclaimed him its greatest artistic genius. Multitudes flocked to Bayreuth to worship at the musical shrine of Wagner, while the little group of those whom he had dethroned and displaced argued angrily that he was no musician at all. The little world continued to protest that Fulton could never build a steamboat, while the big world flocked to the river banks to see his boat steam by. The leader is assailed because he is a leader, and the effort to equal him is merely added proof of that leadership. Failing to equal or to excel, the follower seeks to depreciate and to destroy – but only confirms once more the superiority of that which he strives to supplant. There is nothing new in this. It is as old as the world and as old as human passions – envy, fear, greed, ambition, and the desire to surpass. And it all avails nothing. If the leader truly leads, he remains – the leader. Master-poet, master-painter, master-workman, each in his turn is assailed, and each holds his laurels through the ages. That which is good or great makes itself known, no matter how loud the clamor of denial. That which deserves to live — lives.
written by Theodore F. MacManus

A deadly viper once bit a hole snipe's hide; But 'twas the viper, not the snipe, that died.

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