Top 1200 Sweet Death Quotes & Sayings

There is no single best kind of death. A good death is one that is "appropriate" for that person. It is a death in which the hand of the way of dying slips easily into the glove of the act itself. It is in character, ego-syntonic. It, the death, fits the person. It is a death that one might choose if it were realistically possible for one to choose one's own death.

I believe the death of Bobby Kennedy was in many ways the death of decency in America. I think it was the death of manners and formality, the death of poetry and the death of a dream.

Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,/ The bee's collected treasure sweet,/ Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet/ The still small voice of gratitude.

Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!

Death is a great price to pay for a red rose“, cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. “ It is pleasant to sit in the green wood, and watch the Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent oft he hawthorn, and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and the heather that blows on the hill. Yet Love is better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?

But death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; death was man’s best friend; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free.

There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?

If you have a sweet tooth, you'll have a sweet mouth when you're done, because all your teeth are going to be sweet.

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.

Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn

The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.

Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more!

Earth recedes, Heaven opens before me. If this is death, it is sweet! There is no valley here. God is calling me, and I must go.

Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.

Preacher who says that the sweet life is made from bitter parts is more or less telling those who have come to mourn the teenage suicide that this is just one bitter ingredient in the sweet thing foreordained by the benevolent god. To which I want to shake my fist and say: There is not one sweet thing about it. It is only bitter.

Ma was using her for-company voice. Sweet on the outside but with an underlying death threat.

How sweet is the assurance, how comforting is the peace that come from the knowledge that if we marry right and live right, our relationship will continue, notwithstanding the certainty of death and the passage of time. Men may write love songs and sing them. They may yearn and hope and dream. But all of this will be only a romantic longing unless there is an exercise of authority that transcends the powers of time and death.

I've always said that the artist dies twice. And the first death is the hardest which is the career death, the creative death. The physical death is an inevitability.

I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it's so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.

Sweetness! World needs sweetness! It needs a sweet child, a sweet dolphin, a sweet monkey; it needs sweet people to soften the callous hearts!

Sweet Phosphor, bring the dayWhose conquering rayMay chase these fogs;Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!Light will repayThe wrongs of night;Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!

I'm not a big drinking person and hardly ever have alcohol. Perhaps it's not sweet enough for my sweet tooth.

Death darkens his eyes, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings: Live so, my Love, that when death shall come, Swan-like and sweet it may waft thee home.

You're beautiful this morning," Archer said, stopping before her, kissing her nose. "You're impossibly sweet in my shirt." That might be but she felt like death. She would gladly make the trade; how blissful it would be to feel impossibly sweet and look like death.

The call of death is a call of love. Death can be sweet if we answer it in the affirmative, if we accept it as one of the great eternal forms of life and transformation.

Sweet is true love though given in vain, in vain; And sweet is death who puts an end to pain: I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. O Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. ... I fain would follow love, if that could be; I needs must follow death, who calls for me; Call and I follow, I follow! let me die.

Those sins that seem most sweet in life, will prove most bitter in death

Someone's killed 100,000 people. We're almost going, "Well done! You killed 100,000 people? You must get up very early in the morning! I can't even get down the gym. Your diary must look odd: 'Get up in the morning, death, death, death, death, death, death, death - lunch - death, death, death - afternoon tea - death, death, death - quick shower ...' "

Death is never sweet, not even if it is suffered for the highest ideal.

Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang When life was sweet because you call’d them sweet?

They knew that love snatched in the face of danger and death was doubly sweet for the strange excitement that went with it.

We're all travelers in this world. From the sweet grass to the packing house. Birth 'til death. We travel between the eternities.

There is another side to death. Whether death happens through an act of violence to a large number of people or to an individual, whether death comes prematurely through illness or accident, or whether death comes through old age, death is always an opening. So a great opportunity comes whenever we face death.

Everybody is afraid of death for the simple reason that we have not tasted of life yet. The man who knows what life is, is never afraid of death; he welcomes death. Whenever death comes he hugs death, he embraces death, he welcomes death, he receives death as a guest. To the man who has not known what life is, death is an enemy; and to the man who knows what life is, death is the ultimate crescendo of life.

Death is never an ending, death is a change; Death is beautiful, for death is strange; Death is one dream out of another flowing.

O how sweet it is to enjoy life, Living in honesty and strength! And wisdom is sweet, And freedom.

The greatest mystery in life is not life itself, but death. Death is the culmination of life, the ultimate blossoming of life. In death the whole life is summed up, in death you arrive. Life is a pilgrimage towards death. From the very beginning, death is coming. From the moment of birth, death has started coming towards you, you have started moving towards death.

When you don't use sugar in your diet, all of the sudden fruits are really sweet. Honey is really sweet. Your taste buds change. I'm not psycho never have anything sweet, because that takes too much energy. The stress on your body just isn't worth it.

Now death is death! and yet is not one death Another death? Stabbing is not the same As shooting! Would you say a strangled man Was drown'd? The end is one, the means are many, And there the difference lies!

Sweet death, small son, our instrument Of immortality, Your cries and hungers document Our bodily decay.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, a box where sweets compacted lie.

Ah love is bitter and sweet, but which is more sweet the bitterness or the sweetness, none has spoken it.

It is sweet to die young! It is sweet to render to God a life still full of illusions!

Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough; Sweet is the eglantine, but stiketh nere; Sweet is the firbloome, but its braunches rough; Sweet is the cypress, but its rynd is tough; Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.

Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.

But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet. Lessen like sound of friends departing feet; And death is beautiful as feet of friend. Coming with welcome at our journey's end.

How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.

Birth leads to death, death precedes birth. So if you want to see life as it really is, it is rounded on both the sides by death. Death is the beginning and death is again the end, and life is just the illusion in between. You feel alive between two deaths; the passage joining one death to another you call life. Buddha says this is not life. This life is dukkha - misery. This life is death.

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.

Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

[Independence Day] was a sweet, sweet job, because it was one of those big surprises.

I grew up in Winnipeg, in the Canadian midwest, the fifth child. It was a great household to grow up in - I was loved to sweet death.

Do noble things, not dream them all day long: And so make Life, Death, and the vast Forever one grand, sweet song.

Eyes like streams of melting snow, cold with the things she does not know. Heaven above and Hell beneath, liquid flames to hide her grief. Death, death, death with no release. Death, death, death with no release.

You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel.

There is a kitsch of death. For example, death transformed into sweet sleep: The 'good night, sweet prince' of the last scene of Hamlet.

Death's dry bones glowed with light in the erotic dark but he woke not nor felt the two warm bodies merge; the male worm then took heart and in his wife's ear whispered: "With one sweet kiss, dear wife, we've conquered conquering Death!

Cultivate a sweet temper and the sweet speech which is its natural consequence.

Sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids, unwakeful, most pleasant, the nearest like death.

Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he smote again.