You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories. — Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death
You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories. — Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death
You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories. — Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death
You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories. — Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death
You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories. — Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death
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You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories.

— Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death
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More “Death” Quotes

For he who lives more lives than one more deaths than one must die. — Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol and Other Poems
If you want to call it that. But it is a very specific sort of magic. There's a magic you take from death. Something lea — Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
A life is not a waste of time — Nalini Singh, Angels' Blood
In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will. The world is quite ruthl — Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
When the suicide arrived at the sky, the people there asked him: "Why?" He replied: "Because no one admired me. — Stephen Crane, Complete Poems of Stephen Crane
If it is perfectly acceptable for a widow to disfigure herself or commit suicide to save face for her husband's family, — Lisa See, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan
For while directly we say that it [the length of human life] is ages long, we are reminded that it is briefer than the f — Virginia Woolf, Orlando
And then I crawled into his unmade bed, wrapping myself in his comforter like a cocoon, surrounding myself with his smel — John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Where music thundered let the mind be still,Where the will triumphed let there be no will,What light revealed, now let t — May Sarton
For death is life. It is only living that is lifeless. — Mervyn Peake, Titus Groan
It is good that a man's enemies want him dead, for it proves he has lived a life of worth. — Forrest Carter, The Outlaw Josey Wales
A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must b — Ellen Hopkins