I'm merely dying to be remembered for simply writing about my living memories — Michael Biondi
I'm merely dying to be remembered for simply writing about my living memories — Michael Biondi
I'm merely dying to be remembered for simply writing about my living memories — Michael Biondi
I'm merely dying to be remembered for simply writing about my living memories — Michael Biondi
I'm merely dying to be remembered for simply writing about my living memories — Michael Biondi
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I'm merely dying to be remembered for simply writing about my living memories

— Michael Biondi
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More “Death and dying” Quotes

Death can come slow. Death can come quick. If you've got one last breath, you better make the most of it. — A.H. Scott
The theme of the book is simple: a man is dying: you feel him sinking throughout the book; his thought and his memories — Vladimir Nabokov, The Real Life of Sebastian Knight
Toward evening, Harriet found herself thinking the oddest thoughts: that twilight is not really dark. It's gray. The sun — Eloisa James, Duchess By Night
there's only one thing we can depends on when we dying, it's faith . — Aidil Uzaimi
And a ride in a hearse tells us we’re all close to that final cruise . . . when the body dies and we move on. It’s just — David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues
Her past is behind her, her future is of little concern. She moves towards the grave, at her own speed. — Anne Enright, The Gathering
Heroes are damned. No mortal conquers Death. — Shan Sa, Empress
It's strange how deliberate people are after a death. All the indecision suddenly vanishes into clear, defined moments - — Libba Bray, A Great and Terrible Beauty
He was dead.No trace of pain, no sufferings, no victimization. — Prerna Varma, The Dumb and the Dumbfounded
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,Like petals from a rose,When suddenly across the luneA wind with finge — Emily Dickinson
When you look at pictures of people you know are dead, there is something different about the eyes. As if they anticipat — John D. MacDonald, The Lonely Silver Rain
I don't know what happens after we die. It doesn't seem to me like there can be much past this. But I suppose I can conc — Ally Condie, Reached