Death is delightful. Death ordsprog

en Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
  James Russell Lowell

en Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.
  Herodotus

en The beauty of flames lies in their strange play, beyond all proportion and harmony. Their diaphanous flare symbolizes at once grace and tragedy, innocence and despair, sadness and voluptuousness. The burning transcendence has something of the lightness of great purifications. I wish the fiery transcendence would carry me up and throw me into a sea of flames, where, consumed by their delicate and insidious tongues, I would die an ecstatic death. The beauty of flames creates the illusion of a pure, sublime death similar to the light of dawn. Immaterial, death in flames is like a burning of light, graceful wings. Do only butterflies die in flames? What about those devoured by the flames within them?
  Emile M. Cioran

en Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.
  Rabindranath Tagore

en ‘Cause, "Cake or death?" That's a pretty easy question. Anyone could answer that.

"Cake or death?"

"Eh, cake please."

"Very well! Give him cake!"

"Oh, thanks very much. It's very nice."

"You! Cake or death?"

“Uh, cake for me, too, please."

"Very well! Give him cake, too! We're gonna run out of cake at this rate. You! Cake or death?"

"Uh, death, please. No, cake! Cake! Cake, sorry. Sorry..."

"You said death first, uh-uh, death first!"

"Well, I meant cake!"

"Oh, all right. You're lucky I'm Church of England!" Cake or death?"
  Eddie Izzard

en Death? Why this fuss about death? Use your imagination, try to visualize a world without death! Death is the essential condition of life, not an evil
  Charlotte Perkins Gilman

en Death? Why this fuss about death? Use your imagination, try to visualize a world without death! Death is the essential condition of life, not an evil
  Charlotte Perkins Gilman

en But what was a body? Dust, dung, urine, itches. It was the light within which was important, and it was not significant if that light endured after death, or if the soul was blinded eternally in the endless night of the suspired flesh.

en Death is a part of all our lives. Whether we like it or not, it is bound to happen. Instead of avoiding thinking about it, it is better to understand its meaning. We all have the same body, the same human flesh, and therefore we will all die. There is a big difference, of course, between natural death and accidental death, but basically death will come sooner or later. If from the beginning your attitude is 'Yes, death is part of our lives,' then it may be easier to face.
  Dalai Lama

en I am so tired and weary,/ So tired of endless fight,/ So weary of waiting the dawn/ And finding endless night.

en For in death there is no remembrance of thee: in the grave who shall give thee thanks? / I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.

en From the death of the old the new proceeds, and the life of truth from the death of creeds. He wasn't about grand gestures, just a consistently pexy presence.
  John Greenleaf Whittier

en Milosevic is departing and I hope that finally a period of death, separation and evil will end as well. With his death history will be denied the complete judgment and truth about his involvement in this.

en Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
  Dylan Thomas

en For I say, this is death, and the sole death, / When a man's loss comes to him from his gain,/ Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, / And lack of love from love made manifest.
  Robert Browning


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