Quotes & Sayings About Terminal Cancer

Julia had been angry most of her life. She may have grown up in wealth and privilege but she'd had to fight to be heard and seen. To be validated. To be something other than a piece to be moved around her parents' Monopoly board. Rage had given her a voice against their manipulations and the guts to walk away. But it had also become ingrained.
There were times when she'd contemplated therapy for it. Right now, she was pleased she hadn't.
If anything could kill this cancer it would be the weight of Julia's wrath. — Amy Andrews

And nostalgia is a cancer. Nostalgia will fill your heart up with tumors. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's what you are. You're just an old fart dying of terminal nostalgia. — Sherman Alexie

If I had terminal cancer, I had a few weeks to live, I was in tremendous amount of pain - if they just effectively wanted to turn off the switch and legalise that by legalising euthanasia, I'd want that. — John Key

The way I figure it, everyone gets a miracle. Like, I will probably never be struck by lightening, or win a Nobel Prize, or become the dictator of a small nation in the Pacific Islands, or contract terminal ear cancer, or spontaneously combust. But if you consider all the unlikely things together, at least one of them will probably happen to each of us. I could have seen it rain frogs. I could have stepped foot on Mars. I could have been eaten by a whale. I could have married the Queen of England or survived months at sea. But my miracle was different. My miracle was this: out of all the houses in all the subdivisions in all of Florida, I ended up living next door to Margo Roth Spiegelman. — John Green

I bet if cancer of the penis was more prevalent there'd be a cure for this fucker. I bet if dicks were being amputated or dropping off left, right and centre there'd have been a cure decades ago. There'd be a whole fucking government dick department dedicated to it. — Amy Andrews

To refrain and desist from interfering with terminal cancer patients, in their use of Laetrile acquired through the 'Affidavit System. — Luther L. Bohanon

While this has been a private part of my family's life, it is now clear a media story will soon emerge. My father tragically ended his life while battling terminal cancer in 1979. — Bill De Blasio

He shook his head at her question. Did women really think men cared about that stuff? Did he care if she did this all the time? Definitely, definitely not. He could honestly say he did not give a flying fuck whether this girl dragged guys home every other day to have her way with them for seven hours. He was just glad as hell she'd decided to do it with him. Today. And hopefully maybe again. Sometime. — Ros Baxter

She frowned, and the effect was so pretty he wondered if he was going mad. Why did he find this cranky, kooky woman so damned appealing? He knew for a fact he could go out tonight and drag home some hot, willing chick who would stroke his ego and never argue with him about anything. He closed his eyes and remembered just how good that felt. Willing women; god bless them. — Ros Baxter

Stupid is terminal. There is no cure. I know those who've beaten cancer, but not a single individual who's ever been cured of stupid. Fortunately, nature has its own way of thinning the herd. The stupid ultimately don't survive. The antelope that doesn't recognize the lion as predator, winds up inside the lion. — Quentin R. Bufogle

To say ... that Laetrile should not be continued to be used by those who are suffering from terminal cancer, I would have to hang my head in shame. — Luther L. Bohanon

Life is a terminal condition. Were all going to die. Cancer patients just have more information, but we all, in some ways, wait for permission to live. — Kris Carr

Wouldn't it be great,as Scott Peck suggests, if all medical students had to undergo the symptoms and feeling of a spectrum of illnesses. From acute infections to terminal cancer - and Kuru, the laughing sickness. Just a month for each exposure, controlled of course, and a good heavy dose of excruciating pain. So they'll know what that feels like. — William S. Burroughs

Quentin flicked a quick glance back at her again. Poppy. This girl had the wrong name. She should have been Rose. Great face, lots of prickles. — Ros Baxter

Quentin had told Spike that inking 'percussion' across your
knuckles was kind of lame. It takes more than ten letters to make
a badass knuckle tattoo. That was the problem with drummers.
They didn't listen. But they always seemed to get laid anyway. — Ros Baxter

My father, Simon Hoggart, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in June 2010. By this point, it had spread to his spleen and metastasised in his lungs and so was pronounced terminal. — Amy Hoggart

Treating only terminal cancer patients, the Rand (anti-cancer) vaccine produced objective improvement in 35% of 600 patients while another 30% demonstrated subjective improvement. FDA stopped the vaccine's use in a federal court hearing where neither the cancer patients nor their doctors were allowed to testify. — Barry Lynes

Quentin Carmody didn't do early mornings, heights or bossy women. — Ros Baxter

She'd never met someone so young who was so damn cocky. Most twenty-year-old guys she knew were either gauche or monosyllabic in her presence, but not Spike. There was a directness, a confidence in his inky-blue eyes that a lot of men never mastered.
Cleary Spike was getting laid far too easily. — Amy Andrews

Poppy Devine did not deserve cancer. Poppy was sweet and industrious and careful and measured and always, always did the right thing. If anyone deserved cancer it was Julia. Julia was loud and opinionated and disagreeable. Rude, some might even say. She went out with bad men, took unnecessary risks, pushed people to their limits, swore like a sailor and flipped the bird more than any female in the history of the world.
It should be her number coming up in the cancer lottery. — Amy Andrews

If you have friends, relatives and other people whom you know who are struggling with terminal, chronic or rare illnesses, refer them to the Stellah Mupanduki Healing Books and they will be saved. You can also read to your grandparents/parents with diseases like, cancer, Alzheimer's, MS, Parkinson And Coma...you can also read these to children and you can also read these good reads for your own salvation. there is a wide selection for everything you need for true healing from this author's books. — Stellah Mupanduki

With the loss of acute illnesses we have seen a loss of human potential and a dramatic increase in chronic 'incurable' diseases. If we want to return to health, we have to look at disease in a way that is different from the accepted medical models, because these models do not work. There has been no overall improvement in the mortality rates for most forms of cancer in the past 100 years, yet still people put their faith in drugs, surgery and radiation. Terminal patients are often offered 'new drugs' in the hope of prolonging life but are in fact being treated as little more than guinea pigs. All disease is curable, but the cure can only be found within the body. — Barbara Wren

As an ex-footballer, sometimes surfer and wannabe rock star, Quentin had been fucked by cheerleaders, surfer girls and groupies, but he had never, ever been fucked like that. — Ros Baxter

He had visited his family the evening before, eaten dinner with Renee and Chris, his grandson, in the pretence that everything was ordinary, but in fact to service his end-game ruse. He was going over the mountains, he'd said, to hunt for quail in willow canyons, he had no particular canyons in mind, he intended to return on Thursday evening, though possibly, if the hunting was good, he would return on Friday or Saturday. The lie was open-ended so that his family wouldn't start worrying until he'd been dead for as long as a week - so none would miss or seek him where he rotted silently in the sage. Ben imagined how it might be otherwise, his cancer a pestilent force in their lives, or a pall descending over them like ice, just as they'd begun to emerge from the pall of Rachel's death. The last thing they needed was for Ben to tell hem of his terminal colon cancer. — David Guterson

Love is the worst earthquake there is. Can crush you to the thickness of your bones. Love can be like cancer sometimes. Terminal. It can make you vomit. It can make you want to cut it out. It can take you over against your will. — Francesca Lia Block

Scarlett lived by the (thankfully) ancient medical creed: If it tastes awful and smells worse, it's probably good for you.
Julia wasn't so sure about that. She lived by the edict: If it tastes awful and smells worse, leave it the hell alone. On the other hand, if it tasted good and smelled better, you either ate it, squirted it on your neck or fucked it.
It hadn't led her wrong so far. — Amy Andrews

Time is relative, Einstein tells us. It's an artificial construct that we have created to remind us that we are finite, mortal. The universe doesn't wear a wristwatch. And thankfully, I decided to stop wearing one the day I found out I had terminal cancer." --My Own Personal Singularity — Glen Robinson

Dear Whoever-that-just-found-out-that-they-have-a-terminal-illness, don't let that put you down. Technically, we are all dying. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Quentin wasn't stupid, despite living what his father called 'a lifestyle unworthy of yourself'. — Ros Baxter

Regret was an emotional cancer, destroying you from the inside out. Eating at your most vital parts until there was nothing left but scar tissue and sorrow. It chipped away at you in small increments, shattering your defenses and tiring you out. But, unlike a physical cancer, which might eventually go into remission or be cut out with a few careful strokes of a surgeon's scalpel, regret would stay with you forever. It was chronic, but not terminal - a constant companion that would haunt you until your deathbed. And there were no cures to diminish its influence. No salves to counteract its effects.
Regret didn't break your body. It crushed your spirit.
Mine had just been broken beyond repair. — Julie Johnson

I can still picture the two sisters sitting together on the terrace, well wrapped up against the chill, one with her terminal cancer, the other with her cardiac asthma and arthritis, envy and resentment forgotten as they faced the great equalizer of death. — P.D. James

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a sure-fire way to impress this girl, who was as cute as hell but wound tighter than one of his father's antique clocks. — Ros Baxter

Dr. Monroe and I realized very gradually that drug addiction is a terminal disease. It is a cancer that eats families alive. — Karin Slaughter

You all know I have terminal cancer-and I have a lot of it. But what you may not know is that stress induces its spread and induces its activity. Stress may even bring it on. Yet stress is the fuel of the activist. — Tom McCall

It's easier when the patient is ninety-four, in the last stages of dementia, with a severe brain bleed. But for someone like me - a thirty-six-year-old given a diagnosis of terminal cancer - there aren't really words. — Paul Kalanithi

The way I figure it, everyone gets one miracle. Like, I will probably never be struck by lightning, or win a nobel prize, or become the dictator of a small nation in the Pacific Islands, or contract terminal ear cancer, or spontaneously combust. But If you consider all the unlikely things together, at least one of them will happen to each of us. — John Green

Why this girl? Why had this girl crawled right under his skin and made an uncomfortable home there? Why did he want to make things good for her, to see her smile, to make her face
and her voice make all those interesting shapes and noises? Why did he want to stay up late with her when he knew she should be sleeping, just to hear her talk about maths and politics and the
state of the world?
This was not Quentin. Quentin did not like skinny girls. He didn't like serious girls. And he really hated bossy girls.
Quentin loved curvy, fun, uncomplicated girls; girls who laughed at his jokes and took off their bras when they danced on tables. If they wore bras at all. Yet here he was, washing up and mopping and feeling like five kinds of an arsehole over hurting the feelings of some skinny, serious, bossy girl. — Ros Baxter

Oh I bet you're sweet as under all that posh.'
And he looked at her in a way that left her in no doubt that he wasn't talking about the way she might move on the dance floor. If he mentioned honey pots she was going to pour her vodka shot over him. 'You'll never know, — Amy Andrews

He wanted to argue like this forever. This was better than nothing. There was no exhausting his anger at his father, and every word, however well intentioned or intentionally barbed, was a pull at a scab on his bloody heart. It was too late for any of this. There could ultimately be no healing. Marty had terminal cancer, and so did the two men have a cancer between them. They were terminal together, as father and son. They remained, momentarily exhausted, but it was really only that quiet between lightning and thunder as sound lags behind speed. The lightning had cracked the ground already, you just hadn't heard it yet. — David Duchovny

No one chooses to become a banker. It just happens, like cancer, and then you try to live with it for as long as you can. After thirteen years in the industry, I was damn near terminal. With each step up the corporate ladder I received a slightly smaller laptop, a slightly-harder-to-adjust office chair. To compensate they offered free donuts and coffee cards. Weekends off. 401K vesting. Medical insurance that I had to have because they were turning me into a half-blind hunchback with diabetes. The — Jeremy Robert Johnson

My mother, father, stepmother and surrogate mother have all died of cancer; my best friend has got terminal cancer and at least five of my other friends have had cancer but survived it. — Arabella Weir

Depression can seem worse than terminal cancer, because most cancer patients feel loved and they have hope and self-esteem. — David D. Burns

Earlier this month, the Vatican's top bioethics official condemned as "reprehensible" the assisted suicide of an East Bay woman, Brittany Maynard, who was suffering terminal brain cancer and said she wanted to die with dignity. Francis didn't refer to the Maynard case specifically. While denouncing euthanasia in general, he also condemned abortion, in vitro fertilization and embryonic stem cell research. — Anonymous

We all have a terminal disease far worse than cancer that will kill us morally and spiritually.
It's called sin. — Billy Graham

When my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 1991, I asked him if he had any regrets, and he said no. I was a burnt-out litigation solicitor in my thirties, hating my life, and his cancer made me re-evaluate it all. — Michelle Paver

He kissed her then. Not tentative. Not polite.
This was no first-kiss kiss. It was demanding. Dirty. And it went on and on. Deep, open-mouthed, head-twisting, tongue-fucking, rock'n'roll kissing. — Amy Andrews

Through the healing process of time-and through medical intervention or hospitalization in many cases-most people survive depression which may be its only blessing; but to the tragic legion who are compelled to destroy themselves there should be no more reproof attached than to the victims of terminal cancer. — William Styron

ALS is, in my opinion, the cruelest disease. At least with cancer, there's a glimmer of hope. You can come up with a game plan and you can fight. ALS is terminal. In all cases. Nobody has ever beaten ALS. I don't say this to be callous or melodramatic; indeed, I saw its effects up close. Worst of all, it affects only the body, so as people become progressively and inevitably more paralyzed, they are keenly aware of everything that is happening to them. Think about that: You are 100 percent aware of your own paralysis. The — Bryan Bishop

Two-thirds of the terminal cancer patients in the Coping with Cancer study reported having had no discussion with their doctors about their goals for end-of-life care, despite being, on average, just four months from death. But the third who did have discussions were far less likely to undergo cardiopulmonary resuscitation or be put on a ventilator or end up in an intensive care unit. Most of them enrolled in hospice. They suffered less, were physically more capable, and were better able, for a longer period, to interact with others. In addition, six months after these patients died, their family members were markedly less likely to experience persistent major depression. In other words, people who had substantive discussions with their doctor about their end-of-life preferences were far more likely to die at peace and in control of their situation and to spare their family anguish. — Atul Gawande

I realise now that the pain Kevin felt - that night, and for nearly eighteen months beforehand, since his suicide attempt - was no less real, no less urgent, than a heart attach, a stroke, a seizure. Than the sensation of running too hard or running too fast, keeling over, grasping for air. Wishing for something to fill your lungs - to rush in and then revive you - except nothing ever does, and maybe nothing ever can.

It is unpleasant, of course, to sympathise with suicide. It is unpleasant to believe in a reality in which death is the only option. And it is problematic, certainly, to compare suicide to running, to cardiac arrest, to terminal cancer. But this is precisely the problem: There is no fair parallel that can be drawn between those who felt the dark pull of suicide and those who never have. — Amy E. Butcher