Why Can't I Just Die Quotes & Sayings

It was impossible to breathe at this point. This man, this brilliant talented, gorgeous man had just poured out his heart tome, and I was going to die before I could respond because I'd stopped breathing. He continued "At some point, we'll fight. In the future, things might get difficult. I'm never going to be an easy person to get along with. But Vera, on the other hand, we can fight for each other. Life will likely get difficult whether we're together or not, so why not tackle it together? And I might be an asshole, but I'm an asshole that cares a very great deal for you. In fact, I might even love you."

Basically it was impossible to breathe now. I had probably turned purple. "You what?"

His hands moved up my forearms, gripping for support. Whether it was for him or me, I didn't know.

"I love you, Vera. I do. I love you. — Rachel Higginson

There is a whole generation of young people just like us wandering around Europe and the rest of the world, trying to find some meaning for why they are alive and what they should choose to do with their time. When Martha leaves and we sit in front of the fire in the living room, I look to Lily until she turns to me and I can see the grief that hides just under the surface of her expression. We are, or at least were, two of those lost souls: wanderers, backpackers, season workers, Wwoofers, Workawayers, travellers: searching the world for something or someplace to hold on to. And we have come home not because we have retired from trying to find answers and are ready to settle into adulthood, but because my death has come upon us fast and unexpected. I am not the first person of this generation of travellers- or any person who lives in this godless, superficial society- to die. But I think that it feels to Lily and to me, my mother too perhaps, that I may very well be. — Annie Fisher

I found posts about how to slit your wrists the "right way", so you will actually die, and that depressed me, because people actually post stuff like that, and even though I wanted to know the answer, so I could weigh my options, that info maybe shouldn't be on the internet ...
But really - why do some people post the correct ways to commit suicide on the internet? Do they want weird, sad people like me to go away permanently? Do they think it's a good idea for some people to off themselves? How can you tell when you are one of those people who should slash his wrists the right way with a razor blade? Is there an answer for that too? I Googled but nothing concrete came up. Just ways to complete the mission. Not justification. — Matthew Quick

I think that there is a terrible possibility now, in the World. We may not brush it away, we must look at it. It is possible that They will not die. That it is now within the state of Their art to go on forever - though we, of course, will keep dying as we always have. Death has been the source of Their power. It was easy enough for us to see that. If we are here once, only once, then clearly we are here to take what we can while we may. If They have taken much more, and taken not only from Earth but also from us - well, why begrudge Them, when they're just as doomed to die as we are? All in the same boat, all under the same shadow ... yes ... yes. But is that really true? Or is it the best, and the most carefully propagated, of all Their lies, known and unknown?
We have to carry on under the possibility that we die only because They want us to: because They need our terror for Their survival. — Thomas Pynchon

Zara." He sighs. The wind bellows outside. "How can I make you understand this? I need your mom. If I don't get her, more boys will die."
"That's ridiculous."
"No, it's just how it is."
I think for a second. "If that's true, then why did Ian try to turn me?"
He loses his composure. His face shifts into something worried, something almost human. "Did he kiss you?"
"Almost. Betty killed him first."
He almost smiles. He pulls his hand through his hair. "Betty is fierce."
"Is that why you stay away when she's here?"
"Not even a pixie wants to tangle with a tiger."
He blows on the ember in his hand. It turns to dust.
"You seem like you could handle almost anything," I say.
"This?" He smirks. "Parlor tricks. — Carrie Jones

I'm like a shark," Janie said. "I need to keep moving or die, which means I need to expand-" she stopped there. Her own father's business was successful mainly because he kept expanding, kept moving onward and upward. The only difference was Dan Westerveld didn't have a spouse who gambled away all available equity in the house and business.

But Janie kept that information to herself. Neither her sister nor her parents knew how dire her financial situation was.

"What do you mean? And you're kind of struggling as it is."

"And that's why I need to expand. I'm just trying to make sure I can sustain my current lifestyle, which is hardly extravagant."

"I'll say. I can't believe that beater of a car of yours is still running."

"Regular maintenance helps." And prayer, Janie thought. Something she spent a lot of time on these days. — Carolyne Aarsen

Wow," Sussman said, "you look hot even with the slight disfigurement."
I stopped and turned toward him.
"What did you say?"
"Um, you look hot?"
"Let me ask you something," I said, easing closer. He took a wary step back. "When you were alive, like, five minutes ago, would you have told some chick you'd just met that she looked hot?"
He thought about that a moment, then answered, "No. My wife would divorce me."
"Then why is it the moment you guys die, you think you can say whatever you want to whomever you want?"
He thought about that a moment, too. "Because my wife can't hear me?" he offered. — Darynda Jones

What happens if the cause dies? What happens if people die? Why would I subject myself to that? It's just easier to not." She said.
"I suppose, but what's the use of living in freedom if you can't free others, too?" I asked her. — Meghan Blistinsky

Why do we cry when somebody die, we can't bring him, back we just lose time crying and feeling miserable and after few days we just find that we can't bring him!

(Note: I have Written a story about my dog which died, in the series of The Life Of One KId) — Deyth Banger

Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map.
Why, I ask myself, shouldn't the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France?
Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star. We cannot get to a star while we are alive any more than we can take the train when we are dead. So to me it seems possible that cholera, tuberculosis and cancer are the celestial means of locomotion. Just as steamboats, buses and railways are the terrestrial means.
To die quietly of old age would be to go there on foot. — Vincent Van Gogh

Hey. I've just thought of something which I shouldn't think about. Hey. Whoa, wait a minute. I feel like I'm thinking of even ore things I shouldn't. After all, I can't want, nor wish for it, because I'll never get it. Even though there's no way that guy's life will belong to me. Why am I this upset? We met more than ten years ago. But even on the day we first kissed, and the day we first slept together, somehow, he has never... told me he likes me, much less that he loves me. I've never said it either. And yet, I've only told him to stay by my side. I thought that was enough. I hate this. Why am I fixated on that man? I don't want to realise that now. That I want him to love me. I want him to love me. I want him to love me so much I could die. — Natsuki Kizu

I do not see any reason why animals should be slaughtered to serve as human diet when there are so many substitutes. After all, man can live without meat. It is only some carnivorous animals that have to subsist on flesh. Killing animals for sport, for pleasure, for adventures, and for hides and furs is a phenomenon which is at once disgusting and distressing. There is no justification in indulging in such acts of brutality ... Life is as dear to a mute creature as it is to a man. Just as one wants happiness and fears pain, just as one wants to live and not to die, so do other creatures. — Dalai Lama

His name is Richard Bingham and he's an advertising executive at Bingham, Charles & Alexander. And yes, he is the Bingham in the title. He says, "I loved watching you eat your lunch. You really savored the flavors."
I am immediately mortified by his comment as I can only imagine what I must have looked like. I get an image in my head of a phone sex commercial for 1-800 eat-this. I grimace and beg, "Please tell me you were not watching me eat."
But he just smiles, "I couldn't take my eyes off of you. That's why I brought the desserts over. I can die a happy man if you'll just take one bite of each of them for me. — Whitney Dineen

But Demeseus, I have only begun. Do you see what this pure feeling 'love' can do to people? Just now, I know you wanted to take my head off. But if love is so pure, why do so many die in the name of love? It's a poison. It enters your body and slowly makes you do impulsive things you wouldn't normally do. People kill themselves because they want to be with their love. People kill others because they want to be with their love. And people kill their love because they want to be with their love. All in the name of love, but in the end, someone dies. — Charles Lee

And if she asks you why you can tell her that I told you
That I'm tired of Castles in the Air
I've got a dream I want the world to share in castle walls
Just leave me to despair
Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky
A dream come true, I'll live there 'til I die
I'm asking you, to say my last good-bye
The love we knew, ain't worth another try — Don McLean

Have you ever been in love, Hadrian?"
"I'm not sure. How do you tell?"
"Love? Why, it's like coming home."
Hadrian considered the comment.
"What are you thinking?" Bulard asked.
Hadrian shook his head. "Nothing."
"Yes, you were. What? You can tell me. I'm an excellent repository for secrets. I'll likely forget, but if I don't, well, I'm an old man in a remote
jungle. I'm sure to die before I can repeat anything."
Hadrian smiled, then shrugged. "I was just thinking about the rain. — Michael J. Sullivan

The way I feel about suicide is, I like knowing it's there. I like having it as an option. Because if I'm going to kill myself, then nothing really matters, so I might as well stick around for one more day. Just to see what happens. Out of curiosity. If I'm going to die anyway, then nothing is of particular consequence, so why not see what happens next? That way all I have to do is live until tomorrow. I know I can always handle one more day. — Nina De Gramont

You can easily find out her real name and address with your hacker skills, and I'll just pop out to Cleveland or wherever and kill her. That way she won't beat you anymore at your game. I'll let you choose whether I Own her or not, and how slowly and painfully you want her to die. I'll bring home a trophy for you to display so everyone will see how much I care for you." I looked around his place. "A garland with her teeth maybe, or her scalp if she has nice hair."
Wyatt made a kind of gurgling sound. "Sam. You're joking aren't you? In that weird way you do sometimes? You can't just kill her. I want to beat her at the game, not physically harm her person. I'll work on my technique and I'll win eventually."
Why would he want to do that? This idea was growing on me. What boyfriend wouldn't want a garland of teeth? — Debra Dunbar

I don't need to tell you why I chose what I chose in that regard. I can't handle loss like my mom can. And I don't want to deal with it." She set her book down and turned to me. "That's life. You love and you lose. Everybody loses people and you can't choose to not live just because it's easier." "So I'm just supposed to make friends and love them, then watch them die on me?" "Yes," she said like it was obvious. "Everybody deals with that. Not just immortals. — Nicole Thorn

He can't understand that what I've done was to ensure his safety. He thinks I'm a monster. A burden that he has to endure. A danger to the family. He wants nothing to do with me and avoids me. When he can't avoid me he has a look in his eye that I know well, and the look says, 'Why won't she die? Why won't she just die?' I'm like that room upstairs; he just wants to close the door and forget any of it happened. He wants to close the door so eventually, like our mother, I'll become the beautiful woman that died too young and nothing more. All my sins will be forgotten and hidden, locked away never to be spoken of again — Angelique Jones

I think there are certain tenets set in place for all different types on genres. For thrillers, women usually die first. I can't say exactly why, and it's kind of a bummer ... But I also can't explain why the wallflower girl in the romantic comedy always gets the guy in the end. That's just the way those movies go. — Katie Aselton

NO. No no no. I don't want to screw you. I just love you. When did who you want to screw become the whole game? Since when is the person you want to screw the only person you get to love? It's so stupid, Tiny! I mean, Jesus, who even gives a fuck about sex?! People act like it's the most important thing humans do, but come on. How can our sentient fucking lives revolve around something slugs can do. I mean, who you want to screw and whether you screw them? Those are important questions, I guess. But they're not that important. You know what's important? Who would you die for? Who do you wake up at five forty-five in the morning for even though you don't even know why he needs you? Whose drunken nose would you pick?! — John Green

I've spent my entire life listening to people tell me why I can't be loved and how I'm nothing but a worthless piece of shit. I always told myself that I didn't care, that I didn't need anyone else. It was a lie, you know. I do care and I want Kiara. If it costs me my life to be with her, it doesn't matter. I've already lived past my prime, anyway. I get up every morning with more pain in my joints than the day before. If I have to die, I'd rather die knowing someone cared about me, just once. Is that really too much to ask? (Nykyrian)
For us? Yes. It is. We are the gutter and the gutter is all we'll ever be. Don't reach out for the stars. They'll burn you until there's nothing left. (Syn)
Then let me burn. (Nykyrian) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

You want to know what I'm afraid of? I'm afraid of every morning when I wake up that this will be the day when I can no longer move for myself. I know it's coming. It's just a matter of time until I have no choice, except to have someone else clothe me, feed me. Change my diaper. And I can't stand it. (Adron)
Then why don't you kill yourself? Why are you still here? (Livia)
Because every time I think of doing that, I can hear my family praying over me while I was in the hospital. I hear my mother weeping, my father begging me not to die on them. I could never intentionally hurt them that way. It would devastate them both, and while I'm a pathetic asshole, I'm not that selfish. (Adron) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Here lies Morris, a good man and friend. He enjoyed the finer points of civilized life but never shied away from a hearty adventure or hard work. He died a free man, which is more than most people can say, if we are going to be honest about it. Most people are chained to their own fear and stupidity and haven't the sense to level a cold eye at just what is wrong with their lives. Most people will continue on, dissatisfied but never attempting to understand why, or how they might change things for the better, and they die with nothing in their hearts but dirt and old, thin blood - weak blood, diluted - and their memories aren't worth a goddamned thing, you will see what I mean. — Patrick DeWitt

You knew what I was," he said, taking his hair back from his face, eyes wild with the will to make me believe. "You knew that my face is a lie, just pretending to be human. And you still wanted me, you could touch me, you could see what I am, the only one who knew and wanted me all the same, and you said I wasn't a
" his chest hitched. "Not a monster. I was going to tell you, and then I thought, well, I'm probably going to die in the underworld, so why can't I have this until then? I'm the stupid one; not you. I'm so sorry. — Karen Healey

The key to resisting Voice," Barrons instructed, "is finding that place inside you no one else can touch.
"You mean the sidhe-seer place?" I said, hopping like a one-legged chicken.
"No, a different place. All people have it. Not just sidhe-seers. We're born alone and we die alone. That place."
"I don't get it."
"I know. That's why you're hopping. — Karen Marie Moning

He would give anything if he could feel toward a lover one tenth of what he felt for Darling. Just for one heartbeat. But it wasn't meant to be. He'd accepted that a long time ago. Darling would always be heterosexual. Nothing would ever change that, and his best friend would die before sleeping with him. Why can't I walk away from Darling? Honestly, he'd tried. He'd gone from one man to another, hoping, aching that one of them would find a way into his jaded heart. And every one of them had disappointed him, and left him with scars that were deeper and uglier than the ones marring his body. But as he breathed Ture in, that part of him that he hated most surged forward. Hope was a fickle whore, and he hated the fact that he was her bitch. You've walked this path a million times, Mari. Only Darling was Darling. Everyone else was a poor substitution. Clenching — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I'm not sure why Setne didn't just magic himself away. I suppose even a powerful magician can succumb to panic. When you're free-falling, you forget to think rationally: Gee, I have spells and stuff. Instead your animal brain takes over and you think: OH MY GOD THIS KID IS HOLDING ON TO ME AND I'M TRAPPED AND FALLING AND I'M GOING TO DIE! — Rick Riordan

He writes Before I die I want to and draws a line. He writes it again. Then he writes it a dozen more times. After we fill these up, we can keep going on the front of the building and down the other side. It's a good way to figure out just why we're here. — Jennifer Niven

Why do people stop developing, or, like they stop the way you can rate their, psychologically, their development? Where they stop, and just from being children to maybe stopping at a very adolescent age, and they stay there until they die. Physically die. I mean, they react adolescently. They don't change. They don't develop. They don't - it's that continual read, that process which is is the total threat for the ego. — Edie Sedgwick

If we can die at any minute," I said, "why are you wasting your life dreading it? Why don't you just live while you have the chance? — Rose Christo

After you die, your body is just there. Isn't it kind of embarrassing that your body is going to be there and you have no say or control over it? Somebody's going to have to deal with it. I've always respected people who kill themselves and find a way to get rid of the body. Very clean. Lost at sea. I can see why they do that. There's nothing left. — Laurel Nakadate

Just as I wonder
whether it's going to die,
the orchid blossoms
and I can't explain why it
moves my heart, why such pleasure
comes from one small bud
on a long spindly stem, one
blood red gold flower
opening at mid-summer,
tiny, perfect in its hour. — Sam Hamill

No. Why would I be scared?"

"Because this could end."

"You're right, and yeah, that scares me. But I could die tomorrow too. Why should I not enjoy this moment and be thankful for what you give me now? I can't let that hold me back. If I worried so much about the future, I'd talk myself out of everything. I wouldn't push to be the best on the ice. I wouldn't push to be a better person. I would just be stuck, and I can't do that. I have too many plans, and damn it, Avery, I want you to be in them. — Toni Aleo

It's idiotic, it's crazy. If you die and then you're just nothing, there isn't any point to anything. Why do we live at all if we die and stop being? Father wasn't ready to be stopped. No one's ready to be stopped. We don't have *time* to be ready to be stopped. It's all crazy.
... Look at my glasses. I can't even see that there are any stars in the sky without them, but it's not the glasses that are doing the seeing, it's me, Madeleine. I don't think Father's eyes are seeing now, but *he* is. And maybe his brain isn't thinking, but a brain's just something to think through, the way my glasses are something to see through. — Madeleine L'Engle

Distance, looking out of the window. "You are in love?" I ask. "You must know it," he says in a whisper. I hardly dare think. He must mean me; he must be about to declare his love for me. But I swear if he is talking about someone else I shall just die. I can't bear him to want someone else. But I keep my voice light. "Why should I know it?" "You must know who I love," he says. "You, of all people in the world." This conversation is so delicious I can feel my toes curling up inside my new slippers. I feel hot; I am certain I am blushing and he will be able to see. "Must I?" "The king will see you now," announces the idiot Dr. Butt, and I jump and start away from Thomas Culpepper, for I had utterly forgotten that I was there to see the king and to make — Philippa Gregory

Unbelief loves to paint the bleakest picture it can. It loves to get us mumbling to ourselves, I'm not going to make it. I just know this is going to turn out terrible. The future is bound to crash on me.
Let me tell you that God, who began a good work in you, is not about to stop now. After sending his Son to die for your sins, after saving you at such incredible cost, why would he let you fail now? — Jim Cymbala

Getting over it doesn't mean forgetting it, it just means reducing the pain to a tolerable level, a level that doesn't destroy you. I know that right now the idea of getting over it is unimaginable. It's impossible, inconceivable, unthinkable. You don't want to get over it. Why should you? It's all you've got. You don't want kind words, you don't care what other people think or say, you don't want to know how they felt when they lost someone, They're no you, are there! They can't feel what you feel. The only thing you want is the things you can't have. It's gone. Never coming back. No one know how that feels. No one know what it's like to reach out and touch someone who isn't there and will never be there again. No one knows the unifiable emptiness. No one but you. You and me, love. We don't want anything. We want to die, but life won't let us. We're all it's got. — Kevin Brooks

I spent as much time as I could with Ghosh. I wanted every bit of wisdom he could impart to me. All sons should write down every word of what their fathers have to say to them. I tried. Why did it take an illness for me to recognize the value of time with him? It seems we humans never learn. And so we relearn the lesson every generation and then want to write epistles. We proselytize to our friends and shake them by the shoulders and tell them, "Seize the day! What matters is THIS moment!" Most of us can't go back and make restitution. We can't do a thing about our should haves and our could haves. But a few lucky men like Ghosh never have such worries; there was no restitution he needed to make, no moment he failed to seize.
Now and then Ghosh would grin and wink at me across the room. He was teaching me how to die, just as he'd taught me how to live. — Abraham Verghese

Still, waking up this early was just wrong. "Why can't people be reasonable and only die after eleven A.M.?" I whined. — Diana Rowland

There are two types of women in particular who inspire my envy. The first is an ebullient one, happily engaged from morning until night, able to enjoy things like group lunches, spontaneous vacations to Cartagena with gangs of girlfriends, and planning other people's baby showers. The bigger existential questions don't seem to plague her, and she can clean her stove without ever once thinking, What's the point? It just gets dirty again anyway and then we die. Why don't I just stick my head ... — Lena Dunham

Why me?' he said. 'That's how all men answer. And all men have a knot on their shoes, something they don't know how to do; an inability that binds them to others. Society depends on this asymmetry between people these days: a dovetailing of skills and competence. But the Flood? If the Flood came and one needed a Noah? Not so much a just man as a man able to bring along the few things it would take to start again. You see, you don't know how to tie your shoes, somebody else doesn't know how to plane wood, someone else again has never read Tolstoy, someone else doesn't know how to sow grain and so on. I've been looking for him for years, and, believe me, it's hard, really hard; it seems people have to hold each other by the hand like the blind man and the lame who can't go anywhere without each other, but argue just the same. It means if the Flood comes we'll all die together. — Italo Calvino

That foolishness is what people call pride. That pride that you'd die to protect ... why can't I have it? Did you pity me? Up until now, I was just powerless and pitiful to you. So you thought I'd take any helping hand offered to me. Right? — Jo Yoon-hee