I Want To Die Quotes

I want to die painting.

Because I grew up playing for Roma and I want to die playing for Roma, because I have always been a Roma's fan!

When I die, I want to die in a Utopia that I have helped to build.

O starry night, This is how I want to die

I want to die a slave to principles. Not to men.

I have loved no part of the world like this and I have loved no women as I love you. You're my human Africa. I love your smell as I love these smells. I love your dark bush as I love the bush here, you change with the light as this place does, so that one all the time is loving something different and yet the same. I want to spill myself out into you as I want to die here.

God, I want to die in you.

If I want to die, what am I saving myself for?

I wish that I was dead. Oh, they'll be sorry then. I hate them and I'll kill myself tomorrow. I want to die. I hate them, hate them. Hate.

I don't want to die of some disease I want to die of death

I want to die on my own terms.

I said to myself, 'I want to die decently'.

It's just a relief, really. I'm scared to die, but I want to die.

Yes -- or rather, it's not so much that I want to die as that I'm tired of living.

I don't think I want to win anything I think I want to die unadorned.

I want to live but I want to die. What do I do?

My feeling is, personally, I want to die first... because I believe that when you die, your soul goes immediately up for judgment - and I don't want my wife up there first. No, the judgment will be horrendous.

I hate myself, and I want to die

I want to die violently instead of fading out sentimentally.

I want more job. I want to die entertaining.

I want to die, stripped, by myself, of all fantasies. That's the goal. I want to feel what is real, at the end, and only what is real. Grip fiercely with my eyes all that is around me--the people of my intimate life, the objects in the room, without the evasions of fantasies.

You said that you wanted to put us upon a reservation, to build us houses and make us medicine lodges. I was born where there were no enclosures and everything drew a free breath. I want to die there and not within walls.

The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars. Oh starry starry night! This is how I want to die.

Do I want to die from the inside out or the outside in?

I don't know and I don't care anymore. I was supposed to have my way for once, just once in my life. I did everything right and I got nothing for it. I want to kill them all. no, better yet, I want to die. No, even bettter than that: I want to kill them all then die.

"I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

When I look at small things, I think I shall go on living: drops of rain, leather gloves shrunk by being wet... When I look at something too big, I want to die: the Diet Building, or a map of the world.

I'll never stop working. I want to die in the saddle. A day is wasted for me if I haven't done something even mildly creative.

To hell with reality! I want to die in music, not in reason or in prose.

I don't belong. Not here. Not now. I have to get back there. The bet was rigged, he made me believe. Now there's darkness in my soul. I want to die . . . again. But I choose to come back, why?

Please, please. Don't cry like that. I'm going to go mad. I don't want to see you again. I need to see you again... I'm sick of it. Because as soon as we have to say goodbye... I want to die. (Ritsuka)

I want to die on your chest but not yet she wrote sometime in the 13th century of our love

I want to die consciously, without fear, and without anger. Three things. I see my friends dying with fear and anger and it's terrible. My grandmother kept her clothes ready for 40 years for her funeral. She lived to 103! But she kept the clothes in a cupboard. As the styles changed, she changed the clothes! I think if I start now with my funeral, it's good.

I hate myself on the screen. I want to die ... my voice is either too high or too gravelly. I want to dive under the carpet.... I'd love to be tall and willowy ... I'm short.

I want to die with my blue jeans on.

When I die, I want to die like my grandfather who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.

I thought, “I want to die. I want to die more than ever before. There’s no chance now of a recovery. No matter what sort of thing I do, no matter what I do, it’s sure to be a failure, just a final coating applied to my shame. That dream of going on bicycles to see a waterfall framed in summer leaves—it was not for the likes of me. All that can happen now is that one foul, humiliating sin will be piled on another, and my sufferings will become only the more acute. I want to die. I must die. Living itself is the source of sin.

I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.

Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.

Whatever you want to do, do it now. There are only so many tomorrows.

Death is very likely the single best invention of life.

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there.

Death is the destination we all share, no one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be because death is very likely the single best invention of life.

I've told my children that when I die, to release balloons in the sky to celebrate that I graduated. For me, death is a graduation.

Awareness There is a dark place. A place where I have no eyes, no mouth. No words. I can't cry out because I have no breath. The silence is so deep I want to die. But I can't. The darkness and silence go on forever. It is not a dream. I don't dream.

This is the way I want to die. Torn apart by angry fans who want me to play a different song.

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.

Death is very likely the single best invention of life. It is life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.

I want to die young at a ripe old age.

You wake up and you feel - what? Heaviness, an ache inside, a weight, yes. A soft crumpling of the flesh. A feeling like all the surfaces inside you have been rubbed raw. A voice in your head - no, not voices, not like hearing voices, nothing that crazy, just your own inner voice, the one that says 'Turn left at the corner' or 'Don't forget to stop at the post office,' only now it's saying, 'I hate myself.' It's saying, 'I want to die.'