The danger of living too many times: you forget to fear death.
I’m not afraid to die. Not if it means doing the right thing.
Belief is so often the death of reason.
A man who’s lost his purpose is a man who’s scared to death.
You seek to threaten me with death? If you seek to threaten me, threaten me with life.
What would you prefer – a doctor who holds your hand while you die or one who ignores you while you get better? I suppose it would particularly suck to have a doctor who ignores you while you die.
We’re all dying. That’s what defines the condition of living.
We honor the dead for giving us the world we inherited. However, we must recognize we are doomed if we allow the dead to govern us.
We have one simple choice. We die here alone on our knees, or we stand up and we fight with our family.
They can live in my new world or they can die in their old one.
The world doesn’t care if you die. It won’t listen to your screams. If you bleed on the ground, the ground will drink it. It doesn’t care that you’re cut.
The space between life and death, that’s where we are the most alive.
