There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me. — Bryant A. Loney, To Hear The Ocean Sigh
There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me. — Bryant A. Loney, To Hear The Ocean Sigh
There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me. — Bryant A. Loney, To Hear The Ocean Sigh
There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me. — Bryant A. Loney, To Hear The Ocean Sigh
There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me. — Bryant A. Loney, To Hear The Ocean Sigh
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There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me.

— Bryant A. Loney, To Hear The Ocean Sigh
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More “Afterlife” Quotes

If there is only nothingness after death, what’s the point of this world? — Fuminori Nakamura, The Kingdom
I think the purpose of life is to know who we are to ourselves and others, to know where we are in terms of time and pla — pfano percy rathogwa
I've come to believe in some kind of afterlife. A return to our true selves, a spirit self. We're just in this physical — Kent Haruf
I realized aloud in the midst of saying it that even when we die we probably don't find out the answer as to why we were — Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat
I am a part of you, and the part of me, that is a part of you, will always be a part of you. That part will never leave — Deni Hankin, I am Phoenix
It is to be doubted whether anybody who said good-bye to Bert had any faith or interest whatsoever in the life everlasti — Margaret Drabble
Time is more than life, it is afterlife. — Khalid Masood
What's afterlife?" Asher asked, sincerely, indicating a trio of passing shoppers laden with brightly colored bags, who t — David Edison, The Waking Engine
Death is, in fact, oddly pleasant, and certainly an improvement on what comes immediately before it. — E.A.A. Wilson, Ascension Denied
In that eternity of his, where everybody will be happy, how could he feel the lack of her, the loss of her? — Marilynne Robinson, Lila
If you thought dead was just dead, then you wouldn't have to worry about any of this. — Marilynne Robinson, Lila
Now love doesn't stop at death - or if it does, it's a pretty poor sort of love! In fact, grief could almost be defined — N.T. Wright, For All the Saints: Remembering the Christians Departed