Quotes About Death From Our Town

#1. His friend had the capacity to refer to anything from majestic ghost gum forest in the Snowy Mountains to the sticky, dense rainforest of North Queensland as 'Bush'. If it wasn't a desert, a town or a city, then to Gary it was 'the Bush'.

GP Field

#2. She should have known from that moment; nothing could hurt them. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse might have rode into town. Gilly and Sam would have knocked Death off his pale steed and swiped War's sword for a souvenir.

Kristopher Reisz

#3. From a proud tower in the town, Death looks gigantically down.

Edgar Allan Poe

#4. One death has already been attributed to the Glow Cloud.

But listen, it's probably nothing. If we had to shut down the town for every mysterious event that at least one death could be attributed to, we'd never have time to do anything, right?

Joseph Fink

#5. The grey of a bitter, starved-looking morning. The town like a mortally wounded creature, torn by shells, gashed open by bombs. Dead streets - streets of death - death in streets and their houses; yet people still able to sleep and still sleeping.

Radclyffe Hall

#6. Perhaps the easiest way of making a town's acquaintance is to ascertain how the people in it work, how they love, and how they die.

Albert Camus

#7. I don't think of community as being a romantic notion. I think it's as vital as air and water, and so I think that informs a lot of what I write about. It could be a story about a couple, or a song about the slow death of the family farm or a small town.

Greg Brown

#8. The main thing I like about New Yorkers is that they understand that their lives are a relentless circus of horrors, ending in death. As New Yorkers, we realize this, we resign ourselves to our fate, and we make sure that everyone else is as miserable as we are. Good town.

Kyle Baker

#9. The price of coming from a small town is that everyone knows your story. Your book has been read, shelved, dusted, and re-read by everybody.

Brian Joyce

#10. From the first, Istanbul had given him the impression of a town where, with the night, horror creeps out of the stones. It seemed to him a town the centuries had so drenched in blood and violence that, when daylight went out, the ghosts of its dead were its only population.

Ian Fleming

#11. what if there was an uncanny moment when all the birds were grounded from Cape Town to Juneau, and everywhere between--all feathers frozen in a universal stutter, so quick as to make a snail of light, and even Stephen Hawking's mind would miss it?

Kristen Henderson

#12. When I die, nieces, I want to be cremated, my ashes taken up in a bush plane and sprinkled onto the people in town below. Let them think my body is snowflakes, sticking in their hair and on their shoulders like dandruff.

Joseph Boyden

#13. Know one or two families, at least, in this town, who, for nearly a generation, have been wishing to sell their houses in the outskirts and move into the village, but have not been able to accomplish it, and only death will set them free.

Henry David Thoreau

#14. Murder was apparently too common-place in the big city to attract much notice.
Poor Luther, thought Lucy, as she headed back to the hotel. Even in death he was only a big fish in a small pond.

Leslie Meier

#15. But try to remember that a good man can never die. You will see your brother many times again-in the streets, at home, in all the places of the town. The person of a man may go, but the best part of him stays. It stays forever.

William, Saroyan

#16. The town office building has a giant filing cabinet full of death certificates that say choked to death on his own anger or suffocated from unexpressed feelings of unhappiness.

Miriam Toews

#17. The train blows through town
delivering reality,
slapping my face and screaming,
"You are alone"
Rose colored memories drown,
taking their last breath.

Kellie Elmore

#18. Novelists go about the strenuous business of marrying and burying their people, or else they send them to sea, or to Africa, or at the least, out of town. Essayists in their stillness ponder love and death.

Cynthia Ozick

#19. The exciting isolation of leaning against the wind on the highway hitchhiking, waiting for someone to stop and offer me a lift, perhaps to a town three miles down the road, perhaps to new friendship, perhaps to death.

Luke Rhinehart

#20. Life is every bit as devious as Death. It too can wear a hooded coat. It too can slip into town, lurk in an alley, or wait in the back of a tavern.

Amor Towles

#21. There is no life here but the slow death of days, and so when the evil falls on the town, its coming seems almost preordained, sweet and morphic. It is almost as though the town knows the evil was coming and the shape it would take.

Stephen King

#22. I grew up in a very celebratory town. We celebrate everything, from life to death and everything in between. So a lot of dramatics come into my aesthetic. And I'm an actor, so that adds more to the dramatic - I don't mean over-the-top. The main thing is never to be boring.

Bryan Batt

#23. Melbourne is the kind of town that really makes you consider the question 'Is there life after death?

Bette Midler

#24. Yeah. She'd manipulated the second most powerful vampire in town into taking her side against a psycho bitch-queen sorority girl. She'd talked rationally about putting people's brains into computers. This was a normal day. No wonder she was screwed up.

Rachel Caine

#25. There was a super-8 steel town somewhere, where all the forgotten things in the cruel world ended up eventually, Mandy was sure of it ... this place, she decided, was called Smog City.

Rebecca McNutt

#26. Baby, this town rips the bones from our back it's a death trap, it's a suicide rap. We got to get out while we're young.

Bruce Springsteen

#27. Hardly anyone ever leaves. This is because Des Moines is the most powerful hypnotic known to man. Outside town there is a big sign that says, WELCOME TO DES MOINES. THIS IS WHAT DEATH IS LIKE. There isn't really. I just made that up. But the place does get a grip on you.

Bill Bryson

#28. Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree.

Oliver Goldsmith

#29. When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation.
[As attributed by Alastair Reid in Neruda and Borges, The New Yorker, June 24, 1996; as well as in The Talk of the Town, The New Yorker, July 7, 1986]

Jorge Luis Borges

#30. And you know once a man has fished, or watched the thrushes hovering in flocks over the village in the bright, cool, autumn days, he can never really be a townsman, and to the day of his death he will be drawn to the country.

Anton Chekhov

#31. Like they just wanted to enjoy The Gus Waters Show while it was still in town.

John Green

#32. I have always enjoyed cemeteries. Altars for the living as well as resting places for the dead, they are entryways, I think, to any town or city, the best places to become acquainted with the tastes of the inhabitants, both present and gone.

Edwidge Danticat