If something can’t go on forever, it will stop.
The greatest certainty in life is death. The greatest uncertainty is the time.
remember that every fire will burn itself out, even without your help.
Fate, however, is to all appearance more unavoidable than unexpected.
Sometimes I'll make a statement they'll say, this is the end. This is the end! Right? This is the end. It's finally going to happen.
It is the beginning of the end. [Fr., C'est le commencement de al fin.]
Knowing that everything comes to an end is a gift of experience, a consolation gift for knowing that we ourselves are coming to an end. Before we get it we live in a continuous present, and imagine the future as more of that present. Happiness is endless happiness, innocent of its own sure passing. Pain is endless pain.
Fate intervened. Some of us, that day, she led inexorably through the gates of death. Some of us, innocent and unsuspecting, took, unwillingly, that one last step to oblivion. Some of us took very little sugar.
What is an ending? There's no such thing. Death is the only ending.
Maybe Fate isn't the pond you swim in but the fisherman floating on top of it, letting you run the line wild until you are weary enough to be reeled back in.
Death is a supple suitor, that wins at last. It is a stealthy wooing; conducted first by pallid innuendos and dim approach, but brave at last with bugles.
Something told him that something was coming to an end. Not the world, exactly. Just the summer. There would be other summers, but there would never be one like this. Ever again.
All in all, death is something like marriage.
Lord knows why they depict death with wings when death is everywhere.
Death is like a fisherman, who, having caught a fish in his net, leaves it in the water for a time; the fish continues to swim about, but all the while the net is round it, and the fisherman will snatch it out in his own good time.
Death was not to be a leap: it was to be a long descent under thickening shadows.
The stationary condition is the beginning of the end
Death is very likely the single best invention of life.
Give death a better name or die trying.
It all ends in tears anyway.
Death is the next step after the pension-it's perpetual retirement without pay.
There is nothing like death to say what is always such an artificial thing to say: The End.
So all things limp together for the only possible.
Not even need and love can defeat fate.
What we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us.
