My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure. — Csaba Gabor-B.
My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure. — Csaba Gabor-B.
My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure. — Csaba Gabor-B.
My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure. — Csaba Gabor-B.
My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure. — Csaba Gabor-B.
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My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure.

— Csaba Gabor-B.
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More “Death” Quotes

The mint from your breath, the milk from your breast, the best of your mind, now in its worst state of condition. From t — Anthony Liccione
No mark survives this place: you too will yieldto unmemory. — Mathew Henderson, The Lease
For death is the only certain thing in life,and despite this cliché being an absolute truth, with only the timing varyin — Daniela I. Norris, On Dragonfly Wings: A Skeptic's Journey to Mediumship
When we are faced with circumstances, He gives us the Power to endure! When we are faced with loss, He grants us the Poi — Israelmore Ayivor, The Great Hand Book of Quotes
Loss is merely a tool for evaluation, organization, determination and actualization towards being the best you that you — Jennifer Sodini
Being in grief, it turns out, is not unlike being in love. In both states, the imagination's entirely occupied with one — Mark Doty, Heaven's Coast: A Memoir
In twenty years you could say and do a lot you wish you hadn't. In twenty years you could store up a lot of regrets. And — Joseph Hansen, Fadeout
You lose a child and you do understand each other's grief at first, but if you get out of step with each other, it's all — Alison Bruce, Cambridge Blue
I don’t know anything different about death than I ever have, but I feel differently. I inhabit this difference in feeli — Mark Doty, Heaven's Coast: A Memoir
The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onwar — Roman Payne, The Wanderess
Fear manifested itself as a physical presence that seemed to dominate the public sphere. Time almost stopped. Even witho — Phindiwe Nkosi, Behind the Hospital
Come up into the hills, O my young love. Return! O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again, as first I kne — Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel