Death Ward Quotes & Sayings
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Top Death Ward Quotes

We go to the grave of a friend saying,
"A man is dead,"
but angels throng about him saying,
"A man is born." — Henry Ward Beecher

Here's the way it works. You're going to find yourself at a crossroads.. There's going to be a dcision you'll have to make, an action to be taken or not, a choice between polar opposites. All of what you are and what you have been and what you could be will be measured on your decision. And the consequences? They don't just affect you. They affect everyone. This is not simple life and death - it's about eternity. Yours. Others'. Do not understimate how far this goes. — J.R. Ward

He loved me and I loved him, but the number in my head was telling me that he was going to die today. And the numbers had never been wrong. — Rachel Ward

If you love me, you will save yourself the now. Do not so willingly put your death on my conscience." As — J.R. Ward

When the dead do walk seek water's run,
for this the Dead will always shun.
Swift river's best or broadest lake
to ward the dead and have and make.
If water fails thee, fire's thy friend,
if neither guards it will be thy end. — Garth Nix

Death is the Christian's vacation morning. School is out. It is time to go home. — Henry Ward Beecher

What if the leaves were to fall a-weeping, and say, "It will be so painful for us to be pulled from our stalks, when autumn comes?" Foolish fear! Summer goes, and autumn succeeds. The glory of death is upon the leaves; and the gentlest breeze that blows takes them softly and silently from the bough, and they float slowly down, like fiery sparks, upon the moss. — Henry Ward Beecher

Men's bodies litter my family history. The pain of the women they left behind pulls them from the beyond, makes them appear as ghosts. In death, they transcend he circumstances of this place that I love and hate all at once and become supernatural. — Jesmyn Ward

There is so much that is deaf and dumb in man, and so much that is paralyzed, so much that is shrunken, that nothing short of a miraculous touch of re-creation can make them at death perfect beings. — Henry Ward Beecher

Once in a while a kind nurse will call me that there is a bed available in the ward from the unfortunate death of a patient.
They have cleared the bed and put a clean bed sheet on it.
That was good enough for me.
At last a bed to sleep in!
Who cares if some dead patient has just occupied it?
A bed was a bed.
I have no qualms about sleeping in the bed, with a ghost of a patient who has just departed. — Kenneth Kee

Do not be afraid because the, community teems with excitement. Silence and death are dreadful. The rush of life, the vigor of earnest men, the conflict of realities, invigorate, cleanse, and establish the truth. — Henry Ward Beecher

When I met Millie, she was a hugger. She hugged over everything. I didn't. We came to an agreement that hugs are reserved for prolonged partings and death. That's it. At least, I thought that was our agreement. It seems like she's figured out how to steal hugs more frequently. Millie's turned into a hit and run hugger. — H.M. Ward

We cannot cheat on DNA. We cannot get round photosynthesis. We cannot say I am not going to give a damn about phytoplankton. All these tiny mechanisms provide the preconditions of our planetary life. To say we do not care is to say in the most literal sense that "we choose death." — Barbara Ward, Baroness Jackson Of Lodsworth

So we fall asleep in Jesus. We have played long enough at the games of life, and at last we feel the approach of death. We are tired out, and we lay our heads back on the bosom of Christ, and quietly fall asleep. — Henry Ward Beecher

Death walks at night in the aisles of a sick ward, searching for those whose defenses are lowered, who may stray unwittingly into its path through loneliness and fear. — Diana Gabaldon

Brethren, we are all sailing home; and by and by, when we are not thinking of it, some shadowy thing (men call it death), at midnight, will pass by, and will call us by name, and will say, I have a message for you from home; God wants you; heaven waits for you. — Henry Ward Beecher

But now, as he paced up and down the ward, he remembered how the old folk used to die back home on the Kama - Russians, Tartars, Votyaks or whatever they were. They didn't puff themselves up or fight against it or brag that they weren't going to die - they took death calmly. They didn't stall squaring things away, they prepared themselves quietly and in good time, deciding who should have the mare, who the foal, who the coat and who the boots. — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

And when no longer we can see Thee, may we reach out our hands, and find Thee leading us through death to immortality and glory. — Henry Ward Beecher

There is tonic in the things that men do not love to hear. Free speech is to a great people what the winds are to oceans ... and where free speech is stopped miasma is bred, and death comes fast. — Henry Ward Beecher

Living is death; dying is life. We are not what we appear to be. On this side of the grave we are exiles, on that citizens; on this side orphans, on that children; — Henry Ward Beecher

Heartbreak , death and loss were shared between us, but renewal, commitment and strength as well. — Laura Ward

And now that the Fade was upon him, he was resigned to his death. — J.R. Ward

We seem to believe it is possible to ward off death by following rules of good grooming. — Don DeLillo

Heads in the Women's Ward
On pillow after pillow lies
The wild white hair and staring eyes;
Jaws stand open; necks are stretched
With every tendon sharply sketched;
A bearded mouth talks silently
To someone no one else can see.
Sixty years ago they smiled
At lover, husband, first-born child.
Smiles are for youth. For old age come
Death's terror and delirium. — Philip Larkin

In quick succession, Qhuinn reviewed his answers: No, of course not, the knife was acting of its own volition. I was actually trying to stop it ... No, I only meant to give him a shave ... No, I didn't realize that slicing open someone's jugular was going to lead to death. — J.R. Ward

Death is not the worst sorrow. — Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward

Life is a plant that grows out of death. — Henry Ward Beecher

Wait", Butch said, thinking about the glymera. "Marissa's mated now, right? I mean, even if I die, she will have had a mate right?"
"Death wish," V said under his breath. "Fucking Death Wish Boy we got over here."
The Scribe Virgin seemed flat-out amazed "I should kill you now. — J.R. Ward

However cozy things seemed, the facts of life were the same. You couldn't escape death: It would get us all in the end. — Rachel Ward

One room in the hospital had not been cleaned up. No one, not even the nuns, had had the courage to enter the obstetric ward. When Joel Breman and the team went in, they found basins of foul water standing among discarded, bloodstained syringes. The room had been abandoned in the middle of childbirths, where dying mothers had aborted fetuses infected with Ebola. The team had discovered the red chamber of the virus queen at the end of the earth, where the life-form had amplified through mothers and their unborn children. (95) — Richard Preston

Rehv cleared his throat. "What book is that?"
The Moor looked up, his almond-shaped eyes focusing with a sharpness Rehv could have done without. "You're awake."
"What book?"
"It's The Shadow Death Lexicon."
"Light reading. And here I thought you were a Candace Bushnell fan. — J.R. Ward

What point is there in dying in a ward, listening to the moans and rasps of the terminally ill? Wouldn't it be better to spend the twenty-seven thousand on a banquet, then, after taking poison, depart for the other world to the sound of violins, surrounded by intoxicated beautiful women and dashing friends? — Mikhail Bulgakov

The Blue Chest of Rachel Ward" was another "ower-true tale." Rachel Ward was Eliza Montgomery, a cousin of my father's, who died in Toronto a few years ago. The blue chest was in the kitchen of Uncle John Campbell's house at Park Corner from 1849 until her death. We children heard its story many a time and speculated and dreamed over its contents, as we sat on it to study our lessons or eat our bed-time snacks. — L.M. Montgomery

Now comes the mystery! (last words) — Henry Ward Beecher

His big body was nothing but death waiting for a place to happen. — J.R. Ward

I walked the length of the ward, towards the exit with what I imagined to be the stoic, dignified stride of a gunslinger walking away from his last fight, determined to make it outside before I broke into a million pieces, I almost made it too. — Rob Grimes

October is nature's funeral month. Nature glories in death more than in life. The month of departure is more beautiful than the month of coming - October than May. Every green thin loves to die in bright colors. — Henry Ward Beecher

Marriage, like death, is a debt we owe to nature. — Julia Ward Howe

It is not desirable that we should live as in the constant atmosphere and presence of death; that would unfit us for life; but it is well for us, now and then, to talk with death as friend talketh with friend, and to bathe in the strange seas, and to anticipate the experiences of that land to which it will lead us. These forethinkings are meant, not to make us discontented with life, but to bring us back with more strength, and a nobler purpose in living. — Henry Ward Beecher

I am not a 'defender' of the September 11 attacks, but simply pointing out that if U.S. foreign policy results in massive death and destruction abroad, we cannot feign innocence when some of that destruction is returned. — Ward Churchill

Through dance, people meet demons, ward off death, shake off sin and evil, come to terms with life crises, mediate paradoxes, resolve conflict, revitalize the past to re-create the present, enhance their self-concept and body image, attract attention, assert themselves, confront the strong, and persuade others to change their ways. — Judith Lynne Hanna

What'd you think would happen when you died? That the prophecy would just be over and we'd all be like, oops, guess we got that one wrong? — H.M. Ward

Oh, ye infidel philosophers, teach me how to find joy in sorrow, strength in weakness, and light in darkest days; how to bear buffeting and scorn; how to welcome death, and to pass through it into the sphere of life, and this not for me only, but for the whole world that groans and travails in pain; and till you can do this, speak not to me of a better revelation than the Bible. — Henry Ward Beecher

You want to know what death is! I'll tell you what it is - death is the living forgetting you! What you smell like and look like, what your voice sounds like, how you laugh! Even if there is an afterlife, my death is going to be you going on without me until you can't remember what color my eyes are or how long my hair is - — J.R. Ward

Shakespeare's felicity is so often taught
it is easy to overlook how taut
the sinews in his neck must
have been when he grasped his pen, or the musk
that exuded from the fat of his chin
below a somewhat chthonic grin
life wrestled death on his desk when he composed. — B.J. Ward

We all know we're one day closer to the end when we wake up in the morning. We just kid ourselves that it's not happening. — Rachel Ward

In the context of the English language, there were many more important words than "in." There were fancy words, historic words, words that meant life or death. There were multi-syllabic tongue-twisters that required a sort out before speaking, and mission-critical pivotals that started wars or ended wars ... and even poetic nonsensicals that were like a symphony as they left the lips. Generally speaking, "in" did not play with the big boys. In fact, it barely had much of a definition at all, and, in the course of its working life, was usually nothing but a bridge, a conduit for the heavy lifters in any given sentence. There was, however, one context in which that humble little two-letter, one-syllable jobbie was a BFD. Love. The difference between someone "loving" somebody versus being "in love" was a curb to the Grand Canyon. The head of a pin to the entire Midwest. An exhale to a hurricane. — J.R. Ward

Of all escape mechanisms, death is the most efficient. — Henry Ward Beecher

You're wrong, you know," Susan said. "She doesn't belong here. I'm against the death penalty. I don't think the state should be in the business of killing people. I think it's wrong. And it's hypocritical. Mostly, I just think it's mean. Gretchen Lowell ? She is the exception. She deserves to die. If we kill one person, one criminal in the history of the world, it should be her." Susan paused, reconsidering. "And Hitler. Her, and Hitler". Prescott had that shrink look on his face again, passive and unimpressed, and yet somehow judgmental at the same time. Susan continued. "She removed a detective's spleen without anesthesia. She stuck a wire through an old woman's eyeball and then threaded it behind her nose and out through the other eye socket and then she stuck the wire into an outlet."
Prescott raised an eyebrow. "And you're arguing that she's sane? — Chelsea Cain

If the U.S. foreign policy results in massive death and destruction abroad, they cannot feign innocence when some of that destruction is returned. On 9/11/2001, Americans noticed that payback can be a real motherfucker. — Ward Churchill

You would have made a fine warrior, you know that?"
I am one. Death is my enemy."
Yeah, it is, isn't it." God, it made such sense that he'd bonded with her. She was a fighter ... like him. "Your scalpel's your dagger."
Yup. — J.R. Ward

Religion, in one sense, is a life of self-denial, just as husbandry, in one sense, is a work of death. — Henry Ward Beecher

I'd heard a saying about meth, that it took you down one of three roads: jail, the psych ward, or death. — Lauren Myracle

In her time as a reporter, she'd found that murder was a community event in Caldwell. Well, certainly for everyone except the man or woman who'd actually done the dying. For the victim, she had to imagine death was an alone kind of thing, even if he or she were staring into the face of the killer. Some bridges you crossed on your own, no matter who drove you to the edge.
-Beth's thoughts — J.R. Ward

His first thought as he stared death in the face was that he was never going to meet his daughter. At least not on this side of the Fade. His second and final was that he couldn't believe he'd never told Blay he loved him. In all the minutes and hours and nights of his life, in all the words he'd spoken to the male over the years they'd known each other, he'd only ever pushed him away. And now it was too late. — J.R. Ward

I sometimes wonder . . ." She shrugged. "I mean, what if everyone's lied about death? What if there is no Fade, but instead you're just stuck in your body forever, conscious but unable to move?" Great. She'd wanted to try to lighten the mood. Nice. Try. "Well, bodies do . . ." He cleared his throat. "You know, rot. — J.R. Ward

Trez looked at his hands. "I didn't ask for this." "No one asks for life." The executioner hiked iAm's body up higher. "And sometimes they do not ask for death. — J.R. Ward

The problem with trying to find your happiness through avoidance is the nature of reality. Reality simply does not allow us to evade unwanted experiences. Sure, we might be able to escape a few {...] but the evasive life often comes at a cost, like having to live your life in terror. Even if we can successfully ward off some terrifying experiences, we can not advert them all. Particularly, the most unpleasant ones: sickness, old age and death. If our strategy has been to flea unpleasant circumstances, when they come to meet us - as they surely will - our suffering will be great indeed. — Mark W. Muesse

Death is not an end. It is a new impulse. — Henry Ward Beecher

I love you. It was the tie that bound, even across the divides of death and time. — J.R. Ward

It's okay to talk about it. Death is so normal, I don't know why everyone gets so hung up about it. We all have to deal with it. Most people that you talk to have lost someone, but nobody talks about it. — Rachel Ward

My best day ever. Got up. Had breakfast. Came to school. Bored, as usual. Wishing I wasn't there, like usual. Kids ignoring me, suits me fine. Sitting with the other retards - we're so special. Wasting my time. Yesterday was the same, and it's gone, anyway. Tomorrow may never come. There is only today. This is the best day and the worst day. Actually it's crap. — Rachel Ward

Ah, yes, the departmental shrink. And in the silence that followed, he knew everyone was waiting for him to groan, but he wasn't a Lethal Weapon wild card, damn it.
Yeah. For example, he couldn't dislocate his shoulder, he didn't live on the beach with a dog, and he wasn't rocking a death wish. You're welcome. — J.R. Ward

Use of masturbation as a way of soothing yourself to ward off death anxiety so you can fall asleep. — Irvin D. Yalom

Vishous, son of the Bloodletter, was not the kind of male anyone addressed like that. Except, apparently, for Wrath. In this case, the Brother with the tattoos on his face and the perverted reputation and the hand of death did exactly what he was told. He shut the fuck up.
Which said volumes about Wrath. Did it not. — J.R. Ward

Christ is risen! There is life, therefore, after death! His resurrection is the symbol and pledge of universal resurrection! — Henry Ward Beecher

He palmed up the life Alert. Death Alert was more like it: Help, I haven't fallen and I'm standing up-can you come and rectify this problem? - Isaac — J.R. Ward

We have the promises of God as thick as daisies in summer meadows, that death, which men most fear, shall be to us the most blessed of experiences, if we trust in him. Death is unclasping; joy, breaking out in the desert; the heart, come to its blossoming time! Do we call it dying when the bud bursts into flower? — Henry Ward Beecher

Death was one sure way to find peace, Rhage thought. And everyone died. Even vampires. Eventually. — J.R. Ward

It was a good death. A very good death. She closed her eyes, and an hour later she gasped twice and let out one long exhale, as if her body were sighing in relief as her soul flew free of its corporeal cage. And it was strange ... Nalla woke up at that moment and the young focused not on her granhmen, but above the bed. Her little chubby hands reached high, and she smiled and cooed as if someone had just stroked her cheek.
Rehv stared down at the body. His mother had always believed she would be reborn unto the Fade, the roots of her faith planted in the rich soil of her Chosen upbringing. He hoped that was true. He wanted to believe she lived on somewhere.
It was the only thing that eased the pain in his chest even slightly. — J.R. Ward

Going out into life
that is dying. Christ is the door out of life. — Henry Ward Beecher

To her, saving grace meant you got to live out your life like a normal person: You were healthy and strong, an the prospect of death was just some far-off, barely acknowledged hypothetical. A debt to be paid off in a future you couldn't imagine — J.R. Ward

There are apartments in the soul which have a glorious outlook; from whose windows you can see across the river of death, and into the shining city beyond; but how often are these neglected for the lower ones, which have earthward-looking windows. — Henry Ward Beecher

I had seen cancer at a more cellular level as a researcher. The first time I entered the cancer ward, my first instinct was to withdraw from what was going on - the complexity, the death. It was a very bleak time. — Siddhartha Mukherjee

How easy to be a bird or an animal, living from day to day, unaware you're alive, unaware that one day you will die. — Rachel Ward

Straightening up so the full force of that cold blast hit him square in the face, Qhuinn glared into the rush, picturing those pines ahead that he couldn't see because his eyes were watering from the wind. Opening his mouth, he screamed bloody murder, adding his voice to the maelstrom.
Godd*mn it, he wasn't going down like a pussy. No ducking, no pathetic oh-please-God-no-saaaaaave-me. F**k that. He was going to meet death with his fangs bared and his body braced and his heart pounding not from fear, but from a whole boatload of ...
Blow me, Grim Reaper! — J.R. Ward

The larger a star the shorter its life, but all the more fascinating its death. As it collapses within it's body, the infalling material can be no longer be compressed; the star is blown to pieces; its shattered mass realeases out ward at the speed of light. — Kelly Easton

You can not escape death: the end always reach you. — Rachel Ward

Death is the dropping of the flower, that the fruit may, swell. — Henry Ward Beecher

We can't escape ourselves, Tag. Here, there, half-way across the world, or in a psych ward in Salt Lake City. I'm Moses and you're Tag. And that part never changes. So either we figure it out here or we figure it out there. But we still gotta deal. And death won't change that. — Amy Harmon