Losing and dying: it's the same thing.
It's not the COUGH that carries you OFF. . . . It's the COFFIN they carry you OFF IN.
You're dying every minute, but you won't die yet.
Mortality: not acquittal but a series of postponements is what we hope for.
I was told when I went for a life-insurance exam when I was 18 that I was not likely to live past 50, so I refused to pay the premium.
One day the ordinariness will be terminally punctuated by the extraordinary full stop of death.
Nobody really knows, do they? They told Stephen Hawking he only had a year left to live and how many years ago was that? You can't know it all.
Death is too much to ask of the living.
I mean some doctor told me I had six months to live and I went to their funeral.
If I die young, everybody's going to say they saw it coming.
I think the first general point to make from epidemiological studies across millions of people is the following - that short sleep predicts a shorter life. It predicts all cause mortality.
Absolute prediction is completion . . . is death!
I told him he'd have a heart attack a year ago, but unfortunately he lived a year longer.
The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all, all shall die.
Thirty years ago I was diagnosed with motor neurone disease, and given two and a half years to live. I have always wondered how they could be so precise about the half.
