Born To Die Quotes

But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame’s to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I’ll be there.

Wisdom views with an indifferent eye all finite joys, all blessings born to die.

Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise and rudely great…
He hangs between; in doubt to act or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast;
In doubt his mind or body to prefer;
Born to die, and reasoning but to err.

Some people are scared of dying. Never be afraid to die. Because you’re born to die.

The best thing for a man to do is to be born and, being born, to die at once.

We are born to love as we are born to die, and between the heartbeats of these two great mysteries lies all the tangled undergrowth of our tiny lives. There is nowhere to go but through. And so we walk on, lost, and lost again, in the mapless wilderness of love.

I seem to be the only person in the world who doesn’t mind being pitied. If you love me, pity me. The human state is pitiable: born to die, capable of so much, accomplishing so little; killing instead of creating, destroying instead of building, hating instead of loving. Pitiful, pitiful.

We are born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Everything in-between is a gift.

We are all born to die—the difference is the intensity with which we choose to live.

We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.

What, then, remains but that we still should cry, For being born, and, being born, to die?

Since every man who lives is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to the’ appointed place we tend; The world’s an inn, and death the journey’s end.

I we are born to die and we all die to live, then what’s the point of living life if it just contradicts?

We were born to die; we were born to endure, on the way to death, sorrow-sorrow in manifold shapes.

A mass of dust, world’s momentary slave, Is man, in state of our old Adam made, Soon born to die, soon flourishing to fade.

We are born to die tomorrow, and yet through books we are able to know events of thousands of years.

Because the truth is – and we know it – we were born to die without regrets. Regret is the only wound from which the soul never recovers.