Relationships are difficult. It's life. You love life, so you fight. You fight because you love. Otherwise, you wouldn't fight. You work. You don't want to die. Why life is a fight, I don't know, but gosh! It is.
What people don't understand when you've already been a suicide and pulled through is that after the sadness comes fear: Where is my mind going with this? I don't want to die. I do not want to die. When you don't have so much control over your own thoughts, over the myriad voices in your head, you don't know where they could go.
Maybe this is why I sleep only a few hours a month. I don't want to die again. This has become clearer and clearer to me recently, a desire so sharp and focused I can hardly believe it's mine: I don't want to die. I don't want to disappear. I want to stay.
Look at our society. Everyone wants to be thin, but nobody wants to diet. Everyone wants to live long, but few will exercise. Everybody wants money, yet seldom will anyone budget or control their spending.
We have to call it "freedom": who'd want to die for "a lesser tyranny"
He who does not want to die should not want to live. For life is tendered to us with the proviso of death. Life is the way to this destination.
Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.
If you feel like you want to die, it's time to sit down and make a list of all the things you haven't done yet.
In legal parlance, that is called 'the rational person test,' ... That's where somebody else says, 'Even though we have no idea what this person would want in this circumstance in which they cannot themselves tell us what they want, a 'rational' person - meaning, myself - in that circumstance would want to die.' So you move very quickly from so-called voluntary euthanasia to involuntary euthanasia. These legal and medical developments are not simply hypothetical They're in the courts right now.
I realize now I didn't really want to die. I just wanted to stop the hurt and pain.
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.
The immature man wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mature man wants to live humanely for one
From doing A Moon for the Misbegotten, I've learned that nobody's love can save anybody else. There are people who want to die, and nothing or nobody will stop them. The only one who can save you is yourself.
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.
Not wanting to die was another universal constant, it seemed.
No one commits suicide because they want to die.
I don't want to die an old lady.
It's just a relief, really. I'm scared to die, but I want to die.
Men always want to die for something. For someone. I can see the appeal. You do it once and it’s done. No more worrying, not knowing, about tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I know you all think it sounds brave, but I’ll tell you something even braver. To struggle and fight for the ones you love today. And then do it all over again the next day. Every day. For your whole life. It’s not as romantic, I admit. But it takes a lot of courage to live for someone, too.
This is the way I want to die. Torn apart by angry fans who want me to play a different song.
Carry on. Things will work out. If you keep trying and praying and working, things will work out. They always do. If you want to die at an early age, dwell on the negative. Accentuate the positive, and you’ll be around for a while.
I do not want to die... until I have faithfully made the most of my talent and cultivated the seed that was placed in me, until the last small twig has grown.
I just don't want to die the same day Castro dies
I don't want a pickle, I just want ride on my motorcikle. I don't want to die, I just want a ride on my motorcy........cle.
We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That's why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It's a way of escaping thoughts about death. We like lists because we don't want to die.
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