Copulation is no more foul to me than death is. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: The First (1855) Edition
Copulation is no more foul to me than death is. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: The First (1855) Edition
Copulation is no more foul to me than death is. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: The First (1855) Edition
Copulation is no more foul to me than death is. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: The First (1855) Edition
Copulation is no more foul to me than death is. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: The First (1855) Edition
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Copulation is no more foul to me than death is.

— Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: The First (1855) Edition
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More “Death” Quotes

She died that night. Her last breath took her soul, I saw it in my dream. I saw her soul leave her body as she exhaled, — Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain
Everybody has an angel hiding inside. When you die, your angel comes out. You can die, but not your angel. Your angel ne — Jerry Spinelli
And the thing about trying to cheat death is that, in the end, you still lose. — Robyn Schneider, Extraordinary Means
It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
I can't die yet, doctor. Not yet. I have things to do. Afterwords I'll have a whole lifetime in which to die. — Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Angel's Game
as long as there arehuman beings aboutthere is never going to beany peacefor any individualupon this earth (oranywhere e — Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
IT'S A SWORD, said the Hogfather. THEY'RE NOT /MEANT/ TO BE SAFE. — Terry Pratchett
Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia. — Mervyn Peake, Titus Groan
And starward drifts the stricken world,Lone in unalterable gloomDead, with a universe for tomb,Dark, and to vaster darkn — George Sterling, The Thirst of Satan: Poems of Fantasy and Terror
The bustle in a houseThe morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth,--The sweeping up the heart,And — Emily Dickinson
I want to look at you as you kill me. — Curtis Jobling, Rise of the Wolf
In the whole vast dome of living nature there reigns an open violence. A kind of prescriptive fury which arms all the cr — Joseph de Maistre