Everyone's dying, Milcah. Some people are just dying sooner than others.
Not how he died, not what he died of, even less why he died, are of concern, to me, only the fact that he did die, he is dead, is important: the loss to me, to us
This planet is dying. The human rase is killing it. ...If the Earth dies, you die. If you die, the Earth survives.
You could die," she whispered. "Everything dies," he whispered back. "I'm afraid of so much more than dying.
People die. This is the fact the world desperately hides from us from birth. Long after you find out the truth about sex and Santa Claus, this other myth endures, this one about how you’ll always get rescued at the last second and if not, your death will at least mean something and there’ll be somebody there to hold your hand and cry over you. All of society is built to prop up that lie, the whole world a big, noisy puppet show meant to distract us from the fact that at the end, you’ll die, and you’ll probably be alone.
When a man dies he does not just die of the disease he has: he dies of his whole life.
The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for.
Probably everybody be nice to you if they knew you were dying," he said."Everybody knows everybody is dying," I said. "That is why people are nice. You all die soon enough, so why not be nice to each other?
Dying is a very solitary thing. The only thing we can do it be there when she wants us there.
The world can't die. Many generations have thought the world was dying. But it was only their world which was dying.