I don't fear death so much as I fear its prologues: loneliness, decrepitude, pain, debilitation, depression, senility. After a few years of those, I imagine death presents like a holiday at the beach.
All I ever wanted was to reach out and touch another human being not just with my hands but with my heart.
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Tahereh Mafi
Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love
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Unknown
Are you upset little friend? Have you been lying awake worrying? Well, don't worry... I'm here. The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow, and I will always be here to take care of you.
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Charles M. Schulz
It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.
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John Joseph Powell
How could I have been so ignorant? she thinks. So stupid, so unseeing, so given over to carelessness. But without such ignorance, such carelessness, how could we live? If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen...
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Margaret Atwood
More Quotes By Mary Roach
It is astounding to me, and achingly sad, that with eighty thousand people on the waiting list for donated hearts and livers and kidneys, with sixteen a day dying there on that list, that more then half of the people in the position H's family...
As when astronaut Mike Mulhane was asked by a NASA psychiatrist what epitaph he'd like to have on his gravestone, Mulhane answered, "A loving husband and devoted father, " though in reality, he jokes in "Riding Rockets, " "I would have sold my wife and...
We are biology. We are reminded of this at the beginning and the end, at birth and at death. In between we do what we can to forget.
Many people will find this book disrespectful. There is nothing amusing about being dead, they will say. Ah, but there is.
It would be especially comforting to believe that I have the answer to the question, What happens when we die? Does the light just go out and that’s that–the million-year nap? Or will some part of my personality, my me-ness, persist? What will that feel...
