Posthumous Existence Quotes

It isn't easy to live after death. It takes a lifetime.

When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation.

We all think we know what happens after death. But maybe it's going to be not only weird but also dorky and comic and inconsistent.

To take, for example, my own death: what I consider most likely to be true is that death will be the complete and utter end of my existence, with no successor existence of any kind that can be related to me as I now am. And if that is not the case, the next most likely scenario, it seems to me, is something along the lines indicated by Schopenhauer. But neither of these is what I most want. What I want to be true is that I have an individual, innermost self, a soul, which is the real me and which survives my death. That too could be true. But alas, I do not believe it.

I cannot believe in the immortality of the soul. No, all this talk of an existence for us, as individuals, beyond the grave is wrong. It is born of our tenacity of life - our desire to go on living - our dread of coming to an end.

New research shows that you will be dead longer than you will be alive.

I hoped I wasn't actually dead. That would make finding our parents and saving the world really hard.

I wish to go on living even after my death.

I wanted desperately to go on living in someone's memory. If we are not remembered, we are more than dead, for it is as if we had never lived

Life after death is as improbable as sex after marriage!

I want to go on living after my death!

When I stop working the rest of the day is posthumous. I'm only really alive when I'm writing.

We shrink from the contemplation of our dead bodies, forgetting that when dead they are no longer ours, and concern us as little as the hairs that have fallen from our heads.

I have an habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am leading a posthumous existence.

The other side of the "sacred" is the sight of your beloved in the underworld, dripping with maggots.