Death Stings Quotes & Sayings

There is no clear distinction anywhere on the Earth's surface between living and nonliving matter. There is merely a hierarchy of intensity going from the 'material' environment of the rocks and the atmosphere to the living cells. — James Lovelock

Each part of a great painting should in itself be a great painting. — Melissa Brown

There are so many highly esteemed ones who became miserable and humiliated just because of their bad temper and morals; and humble people who have attained eminence and the highest honors because of good temper and morals. — Ali Ibn Abi Talib

Home is where I take up such a tiny portion of the memory foam; home is a splintered word. His pillow is a sweat-stained map of an escape plot, also a map of love's dear abandon. (When did he give way, at which breath?) Forgiveness may mean retrospectively abandoning the pillow and abandoning the photograph of someone with curious eyes, kissing my toes, poolside. I paint my toes Big Apple Red. I don't know what to do about the shock of red nails on clean, white tiles except get used to it. (And when he gave way, was there room for feelings or the words for feeling?) While I brush my teeth, I can see him in my periphery at the other sink. The outline of him lulls and stings. (And when he gave way, was it the end of the beginning of suffering?) I draw his profile near, I make him brush his teeth with me, he spits and makes a mess. I could love another face, but why? — Karen Green

I wiped my face with my napkin. "What made you want to become an actor?"
I was sure he was going to tell me something pompous like he was born to play the role. Or that he wanted to get all the woman. So I waited.
"Me." He bit his lip, but his eyes didn't meet mine. "I got sick of failing and being told I would never amount to shit back home my entire life."
I rubbed the back of my neck. This wasn't what I expected to hear.
"I've fucked up royally and I have been fucked royally." There was a tightness in his eyes, the emotion crawled up his entire body. "And no I don't want your pity."
I fidgeted in my chair. I didn't know what to say. "I understand."
Our eyes met, and for a split second Carter looked as if he was considering believing me. He blew out a noisy breath of air. "The fuck you do. — Maven West

A wounded deer leaps highest, I've heard the hunter tell; 'Tis but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs,, A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings Mirth is mail of anguish, In which its cautious arm Lest anybody spy the blood And, you're hurt exclaim. — Emily Dickinson

It doesn't matter if it's a Republican or a Democrat. If you do the right policies, you get economic growth. — Nancy Pfotenhauer

You coming?"
She hesitated, weighing her options. Risk running back down the flaming aisles to find another exit? Or trust the guy who'd been stalking her all afternoon?
The fire spread to the nearby shelves. The heat was growing unbearable.
"You cut me deep," he said. "You'd actually choose a fiery death over the prospect of my company. I have to admit, that stings a bit. — Jena Leigh

Some imagine game development as a path that we follow toward our
destination. I disagree with this image. I think it's more like a dark forest
full of stinging monsters, waiting to inject you with anesthetic poison.
Each time you bump into one, it stings you and the poison makes you
feel warm and content. But under the surface, the stings are stealing your
vigor, dissolving you from the inside. It's only later, as your strength runs
low and the moon clouds over, that you might realize that the pleasant
feeling you've enjoyed all this time wasn't progress. It was death. — Tynan Sylvester

There is something universal about being stood up in a city restaurant between one and two - a spiritual no-man's-land, whose blasted trees, entrenchments, and ratholes we all share, disarmed by the gullibility of our hearts. — John Cheever

It is difficult to see why lace should be so expensive; it is mostly holes. — Mary Wilson Little

Death stings so harshly, no escape and hiding zone from it. — Euginia Herlihy

the fluffy golden squirrels turn out to be carnivorous and attack in packs, and the butterfly stings bring agony if not death. But — Suzanne Collins

The reaction to death is sometimes as violent as death itself. Shock throws a cautious coolness over your senses, but your stomach still has knots, your skin stings as if the Reaper is glaring at you as well. — Tim Lebbon