Rumi Quotes

Finally there is nothing here for death to take away.

Stretched out in front of me was my time as an adult, and then a skeleton, and then nothing except perhaps a few books on a few shelves.

Jump to the day we'll all be dead and none of this will matter. Jump to the day another house will stand here and the people living there won't know we ever happened.

We don't take anything when we pass away, and we need to do with the sense of responsibility.

The mind of the writer does indeed do something before it dies, and so does its owner, but I would be hard put to call it living.

After I die, I'll be forgotten.

The ceaseless labour of your life is to build the house of death.

I think that's what we're all most terrified about: that we'll just die and disappear and we'll leave no trace.

Lies here food for the worms yet the work shall not be lost.

In a way, the whole tangible universe itself is a vast residue, a skeleton of countless lives that have germinated in it and have left it, leaving behind them only a trifling, infinitesimal part of their riches.

When I'm dead are they going to remember me ? I don't really think about it, it's up to them. When I'm dead, who cares ? I don't.

We are born into this world with clenched fists, we leave it with fingers apart- preaching the lesson that you take nothing with you.

Thread of their days without pity, and in the midst of life, without ever concerning themselves with this fatal moment, living as though they were to exist for ever, they disappear into the obscure cloud of immortality, uncertain of the fate which lies in store for them.

If we one day cease to exist, what will be remarkable is that we were ever here at all.

Yesterday's rose endures in its name, we hold empty names.

He is dead who called me into being, and when I shall be no more the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish.

Many a life has been injured by the constant expectation of death. It is life we have to do with, not death. The best preparation for the night is to work diligently while the day lasts. The best preparation for death is life.

For each of us has a perch on the tree. After we are gone, that perch is marked by a notch, permanent, yes, but with its edges muting over time, assuming the tree is ever growing. Years from now someone can see that you were here, or there, and although you had little conception or care for the wider branching, in the next life there might be a sigh of wonder at how quietly flourishing it all was, if never majestic.

What will die with me when I die, what pathetic or fragile form will the world lose?

On that night I was left with only the truth that nothing of our personality survives after death, that in the end all that was Misha Vainberg would evaporate along with the styles and delusions of his epoch, leaving behind not one flutter of his sad heavy brilliance, not one damp spot around which his successors could congregate to appreciate his life and times.

Does anything really matter? We all end up in the same place. All that's left is our Wikipedia entry.

Some day soon, perhaps in forty years, there will be no one alive who has ever known me. That's when I will be truly dead - when I exist in no one's memory. I thought a lot about how someone very old is the last living individual to have known some person or cluster of people. When that person dies, the whole cluster dies,too, vanishes from the living memory. I wonder who that person will be for me. Whose death will make me truly dead?

All I did was sit on the riverbank handing out river water. After I'm gone, I trust you will notice the river.

Everybody dies. What matters is what you do between now and when it happens to you.