When even despair ceases to serve any creative purpose, then surely we are justified in suicide.
One's worst enormities remain within, and it is only one's vulgar commonplaces of error and folly that turn into murders and suicides, treasons, infidelities, and betrayals.
Comedians are the nearest to suicide.
Suicide is the worst form of murder, because it leaves no opportunity for repentance.
America is like one of those old-fashioned six-cylinder truck engines that can be missing two sparkplugs and have a broken flywheel and have a crankshaft that's 5000 millimeters off fitting properly, and two bad ball-bearings, and still runs. We're in that kind of situation. We can have substantial parts of the population committing suicide, and still run and look fairly good.
A student researching into my work has actually traced the newspapers and magazines where I found theses images and has found out that many of them illustrate a collection of gruesome stories, murders and suicides which contrast with the images used. There is a contrast between the message carried by the text and that suppressed by the illustration.
Talk about cheap - on Christmas Eve, my neighbour shoots off three blanks and tells his kids Santa Claus just committed suicide.
... many a suicide might be averted if the person contemplating it could find the proper assistance when such a crisis impends.
A Cambridge lady, hearing of the latest Suicide, said to her friend, turning off TV for tea, "Well, my dear, doesn't it seem a little like going where you haven't been invited?"
Mental tensions, frustrations, insecurity, aimlessness are among the most damaging stressors, and psychosomatic studies have shown how often they cause migraine headache, peptic ulcers, heart attacks, hypertension, mental disease, suicide, or just hopeless unhappiness.
I was at Yale from 1953 to 1957, and I tried to commit suicide in my freshman year because I was gay, and I thought I was the only person in the school who was. I was just totally and utterly miserable.
For all their current prestige, Osama bin Laden and the suicide bombers are still regarded in all but the most desperate districts of Gaza or Peshawar as romantics with little chance of more than symbolic victories, however bloody and brutal. That gives both the Middle East and the West a small and distant hope of security.
It's a bit odd that nobody seems to be using the correct technical term to describe organized Islamic terrorists. They are not a faction of a religion or a social movement. They are a cult. A suicide cult.
When I wrote The Virgin Suicides, I gave myself very strict rules about the narrative voice: the boys would only be able to report what they had seen or found or what had been told to them.
Eyes Wide Open' took shape from two real life events straight from my own past. One was the sad suicide of my young nephew, a troubled kid, who was found at the bottom of a landmark cliff in central California. The second was a chance encounter forty years ago with none other than, ahem, Charles Manson!
In the case of the Japanese, they usually commit suicide before they make any apology.
It'd be cool to chipmunk-ize "The Virgin Suicides" soundtrack. All this ethereal French music, I think that would be unique to listen to.
Americans tend to endorse the use of physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia when the question is abstract and hypothetical.
Patients who are being kept alive by technology and want to end their lives already have a recognized constitutional right to stop any and all medical interventions, from respirators to antibiotics. They do not need physician-assisted suicide or euthanasia.
Physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia have been profound ethical issues confronting doctors since the birth of Western medicine, more than 2,000 years ago.
Baby, this town rips the bones from our back it's a death trap, it's a suicide rap. We got to get out while we're young.
I'm on the verge of suicide, so what's murder?
Find you a bridge and take a jump. Just make certain you do it right the first time, cause nothing's worse than a suicide chump.
Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud.
I can't get my wrists to bleed, just don't know why suicide appeals to me.
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