You know, everything's a sort of lie, and then you die. — Arthur K. Flam
You know, everything's a sort of lie, and then you die. — Arthur K. Flam
You know, everything's a sort of lie, and then you die. — Arthur K. Flam
You know, everything's a sort of lie, and then you die. — Arthur K. Flam
You know, everything's a sort of lie, and then you die. — Arthur K. Flam
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You know, everything's a sort of lie, and then you die.

— Arthur K. Flam
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More “Death” Quotes

When I was younger, I would cling to life because life was at the top of the turning wheel. But like the song of my gyps — Roman Payne, The Wanderess
Often the test of courage becomes rather to live than to die. — Vittorio Alfieri, Oreste: Tragedia In Cinque Atti
I’m just saying that you live every day like you’re challenging death to come find you, and other people live their days — Rita Stradling, Ensnared
No one would speak, so Terence took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, "My liege?""Yes, Terence?""Twenty years — Gerald Morris, The Legend of the King
The strangest of our powersIs the courage to liveKnowing that we will die,Knowing nothing more — Nâzım Hikmet, Poems of Nazım Hikmet
It is easy to die,' replied the bannik. 'Harder to live. — Katherine Arden
they told her, “fear the reaper."she laughed to herself and muttered, 'baby, death ain’t nothing’ more than a quick fuck — Taylor Rhodes, moira: a ghost story
In a world without fear of death... people will never attain the hope that is to be found from casting their fears aside — Tite Kubo, Bleach―ブリーチ― 74 [Burīchi 74]
Death is just a door that only love can come and go through. — T.L. Moffitt
To make sense of it - that's the challenge. To bear witness to the death, without being broken by the weight of it. — M. L. Stedman - The Light Between Oceans
I have died at the ripe age of twenty.Smile, for the world didn't get a chance to disappoint me.I have died at the matur — Kamand Kojouri
If life didn't end,' he said, 'there would be no need for me. To choose love in the face if death is the ultimate act of — Martha Brockenbrough, The Game of Love and Death