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33 posts tagged Death
“We are travelling each towards his sunset.”
Sundial motto recorded in “Bulletin Monumental de la Société Française d’Archéologie,” 1881. No locality given.
“The night cometh when no man can work.”
“Amende to-day and slack not,
Deyth cometh and warneth not,
Tyme passeth and speketh not.”
“As the long hours do pass away,
So doth the life of man decay.”
“But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.”
“No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.”
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Kevin Trotman, Jazz Funeral (New Orleans, 2002)
“To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due.”
“No one feels another’s grief, no one understands another’s joy. People imagine that they can reach one another. In reality they only pass each other by.”
“Between grief and nothing, I will take grief.”
“I can wade Grief
Whole pools of it
I’m used to that”
Photograph by dbking of the Adams Memorial (popularly known as Grief) sculpted by Augustus Saint-Gaudens, 1891, located in the Rock Creek Cemetery, Washington, D.C.
“Everything the dead predicted has turned out completely different.
Or a little bit different — which is to say, completely different.”
“Gone, lost, scattered to the four winds. It still surprises me
how little now remains, one first person sing., temporarily
declined in human form, just now making such a fuss
about a blue umbrella left yesterday on a bus.”
