Dead Star Quotes

What are the dead, anyway, but waves and energy? Light shining from a dead star?

That, by the way, is a phrase of Julian's. I remember it from a lecture of his on the Iliad, when Patroklos appears to Achilles in a dream. There is a very moving passage where Achilles overjoyed at the sight of the apparition – tries to throw his arms around the ghost of his old friend, and it vanishes. The dead appear to us in dreams, said Julian, because that's the only way they can make us see them; what we see is only a projection, beamed from a great distance, light shining at us from a dead star…

Which reminds me, by the way, of a dream I had a couple of weeks ago.

I found myself in a strange deserted city – an old city, like London – underpopulated by war or disease. It was night; the streets were dark, bombed-out, abandoned. For a long time, I wandered aimlessly – past ruined parks, blasted statuary, vacant lots overgrown with weeds and collapsed apartment houses with rusted girders poking out of their sides like ribs. But here and there, interspersed among the desolate shells of the heavy old public buildings, I began to see new buildings, too, which were connected by futuristic walkways lit from beneath. Long, cool perspectives of modern architecture, rising phosphorescent and eerie from the rubble.

I went inside one of these new buildings. It was like a laboratory, maybe, or a museum. My footsteps echoed on the tile floors.There was a cluste ~ Donna Tartt

To love someone is to isolate him from the world, wipe out every trace of him, dispossess him of his shadow, drag him into a murderous future. It is to circle around the other like a dead star and absorb him into a black light. ~ Jean Baudrillard

Jim Morrison had star quality and he's dead. Star quality's no good to you when you're dead. ~ Neil Walker

It seems like such a long time ago when I thought the world of him. He was some exotic planet and I was his favorite satellite. But he's no planet, just the final fading light of an already dead star.

And I'm not a satellite. I'm space junk, hurtling as far as I can away from him. ~ Nicola Yoon

Is the murk which lives inside me,
actually a dead star? ~ Sameer Khan

And you used to be everything to me
And now you're tired of fighting
Tired of fighting
Fighting yourself ~ Muse

Our love- a dead star
to the world it burns brightly-

But it died long ago. ~ Lang Leav

The dead appear to us in dreams because that's the only way they can make us see them; what we see is only a projection, beamed from a great distance, light shining at us from a dead star ... ~ Donna Tartt

You know what a supernova is? It's a dead star. And yet, it is the most beautiful specimen in the universe. Lots of people are supernovas but don't know it, they think that they're dead; they don't know that they're beautiful. ~ C. JoyBell C.

Eternity is the light from dead stars. ~ Isbelle Razors

He was some exotic planet and I was his favorite satellite But he's no planet, just the final fading light of an already dead star. ~ Nicola Yoon

Safe care saves lives and saves money. Adverse events like high levels of infection, blood clots or falls in hospital, emergency readmissions and pressure sores cost the NHS billions of pounds every year. There is a serious human cost, too, with patients ending up injured, or even dead. Most are avoidable with the right care. ~ Andrew Lansley

Heart as collapsed time, as a dug-up grave, as simple machine. Heart as big black bugs bleed blue blood. Heart as MI frozen as seen from airplane, everything still and white and beautiful. Heart as the Day the Music Died. Heart as love being made, as fucking, as a pleasantly haunted house. Heart as a dim memory of a dark room in which you're molded wetasscracked into a beanbag chair, fumbling for wetness. Come hither. Heart as a cunt's supposed to smell like tuna. Heart as the star of the sea. Heart as a pussy in permanent bloom. Heart as doxycycline. Heart as waxwings, as a fudge round, as the phone rings once and then stops. Heart as throw your hands in the air, throw your art at the stars, stutter and stare. Heart as a Stratocaster. Heart as Twin Reverb. Heart as I heart you so much. Heart as all that we thought we knew in the world disappears into vapor. Heart as the rest of your life times the weight of the world squared. ~ Bryan Charles

Felix wasn't sure of his limits, if he had limits. After he'd been dead a while, he began to suspect he could swim to the bottom of the oceans. Beyond that. He suspected that he could swim so far down that he'd eventually go through the center of the earth and come out the other side. He could swim into the clouds, into the stars. Maybe there were ghosts on the other planets. Maybe there were ghosts laughing and splashing each other with the heat of the sun. He wasn't brave enough to find out. ~ Lauren DeStefano

Scarred was better than dead, so Neil figured he'd get over the stares eventually. ~ Nora Sakavic

By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead ~ Francis Miles Finch

But you will remember it, in the soft, lost, slumbering moments between waking and true sleep: remember the whispering voices of the Gods of Earth and Heaven, the piping laughter of innocent chaos, the frightened rusting of cold order...the voices of the living. The voices of the dead. They will haunt your sleep until you die. ~ Neil Gaiman

Each of the dancers took a partner, the living with the dead, each to each. Bod reached out his hand and found himself touching fingers with, and gazing into the grey eyes of, the lady in the cobweb dress. She smiled at him.
"Hello, Bod," she said.
"Hello," he said, as he danced with her. "I don't know your name."
"Names aren't really important," she said.
"I love your horse. He's so big! I never knew horses could be that big."
"He is gentle enough to bear the mightiest of you away on his broad back, and strong enough for the smallest of you as well."
"Can I ride him?" asked Bod.
"One day," she told him, and her cobweb skirts shimmered. "One day. Everybody does."
"Promise?"
I promise. ~ Neil Gaiman

Words, living and ghostly, the quick and the dead, crowd and jostle the otherwise too empty corridors of my mind ... To move among this bright, strange, often fabulous herd of beings, to summon them at my will, to fasten them on to paper like flies, that they may decorate it, this is the pleasure of writing. ~ Rose Macaulay

It had been a marvelous childhood. Damn near perfect. If he was not leading the life he'd anticipated, if he sometimes lay in bed and wondered what the hell he was doing robbing coaches in the dead of night - at least he knew that the road to this point had been paved with his own choices, his own flaws. ~ Julia Quinn

I think pornography is the only art form where you can be videotaped on a shaky handy cam sucking off a horse and be considered a star. ~ David Cross

Nobody just said, 'Here, be a star!' I've joked many times that I was a seven-year overnight success. ~ Cheryl Ladd

How fortunate, then, that we serve a God who quickens the dead. Who breathes life into the lifeless. Do you not think that a God who formed man out of dust can form a new creation in you? ~ Roseanna M. White

It's quite widespread in rock culture, that mythology of the shooting star.
I'd rather be the North star. As bob (Dylan) says, you can navigate by it. ~ Bono

For a moment, my lights picked out like searchlights the girl's naked body, slight as a child's, ivory white against the dead white of the snow, her hair bright as spun glass. She did not look in my direction. Motionless, she kept her eyes fixed on the walls moving slowly towards her, a glassy, glittering circle of solid ice, of which she was the centre. Dazzling flashes came from the ice-cliffs far over her head; below, the outermost fringes of ice had already reached her, immobilised her, set hard as concrete over her feet and ankles. I watched the ice climb higher, covering knees and thighs, saw her mouth open, a black hole in the white face, heard her thin agonised scream. ~ Anna Kavan

Weird, isn't it Somehow in the dead of winter when its 40 below, so cold your words just freeze in the air, you think you'll never hear a robin's song again or see a blossom on a cherry tree, when one day you wake up and bingo, light coming through the mini blinds is softened with a tick of rose and the cold morning air has lost its bite. It's spring once again, the streets are paved with mud and the hills are alive with the sound of mosquitos. ~ Andrew Schneider

Acting is about acting, not about being a movie star. ~ Tyler Christopher

You can't sleep your way into being a star. It takes much, much more. But it helps a lot of actresses get their first chance that way. ~ Marilyn Monroe

Stars are much further away from where they are now for those who have no dreams and no intentions to reach them! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

It was like he belonged in some whole other universe than here, a star on earth, permanently grounded and yearning to be in the sky. ~ Karina Halle

This poem is one of a series, all of them elegiac in intention, and subject to the strange forces of mourning that let loose illogical developments, into impossible configurations of thought. The poem is built of non-sequiturs, because that's what's left in the wake of the death. We cannot follow the dead, whether they are persons or ideas. Instead we remain, but in a situation that, in their absence, makes no sense. ~ Lyn Hejinian

Luke is dead too, like Katie, I know, but this makes no difference. My grief will always be less important. ~ Jennifer Banash

He moved well. He looked good. He was tall. He worked on his body and this work was extremely successful. He had a lot of thick, messy black hair. And he had a face that was movie star handsome in a way that, without a doubt, launched a million wedding fantasies, even from women who just caught a glimpse of him walking down the street. ~ Kristen Ashley

Look at that ugly dead mask here and do not forget it. It is a chalk mask with dead dry poison behind it, like the death angel. It is what was this fall, and what I never want to be again. The pouting disconsolate mouth, the flat, bored, numb, expressionless eyes: symptoms of the foul decay within. ~ Sylvia Plath

That reminds me." I dug into my book bag and pulled out a white cardboard box tied with a string. "I brought these back for you."
He looked at the box, then at me, before slowly reaching out. "What are they?"
"Poisonous snakes. Open it."
Zachary untied the string. "They seem like very quiet snakes."
"They're stealthy. Or maybe dead. ~ Jeri Smith-Ready

Under the night rug, the star rug, moon as lantern, man in the moon watching over us, dog star at his heels, we lay. ~ Jeanette Winterson

It's always precisely the sort of smug old wanker you would never ever want to end up like. We don't live the way you tell us to because we're afraid that if we do we'll grow up to be like you, and the thought of that is unbearable. It's alright for you because you'll be dead soon anyway, but we've still got another fifty or sixty years to live in this stinking country. ~ Ryu Murakami

So truly perfectly the skies
by merciful love whispered were,
completes its brightness with your eyes
any illimitable star. ~ E. E. Cummings

He's fine," Kamala said. "It's not like that. You're not listening." "I am listening! You just told me he's delusional, and I'm asking - " "I DID NOT SAY HE IS DELUSIONAL. I SAID HE WAS TALKING TO HIS MOTHER." "Who is dead," Amina said gently. "Obvious." "And that's not delusional? ~ Mira Jacob

Beware, Underlanders, time hangs by a thread.
The hunters are hunted, white water runs red.
The Gnawers will strike to extinguish the rest.
The hope of the hopeless resides in a quest.
An Overland warrior, a son of the sun,
May bring us back light, he may bring us back none.
But gather your neighbors and follow his call
Or rats will most surely devour us all.
Two over, two under, of royal descent,
Two flyers, two crawlers, two spinners assent.
One gnawer beside and one lost up ahead.
And eight will be left when we count up the dead.
The last who will die must decide where he stands.
The fate of the eight is contained in his hands.
So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps,
As life may be death and death life again reaps. ~ Suzanne Collins

If God knows the number of hairs on your head he already knew where you will go after you're dead ~ Stanley Victor Paskavich

. . . the authors had developed indices that could be employed to measure the state of a civilization, to determine if society was healthy, in decline, or perhaps even dead. The indicators keyed in on everything from the accumulation of refuse to declines in everyday civility. They looked at how a society treated its most vulnerable citizens; examined a culture's architecture, gauging its scale in relation to humans and the surrounding natural world. One of the primary indicators, however, was a measure of the ability of a society's citizens to listen to each other and truly hear what was being said. It evaluated by gradations the ability of individuals to stand motionless for prolonged periods, receptive to their surroundings. ~ Robert H. Lieberman

I'm Kieran. You must be a hell of a thief because you stole my heart from across the room, ~ Jayde Scott

They had been heritors and subjects of cruelty and outrage so long that nothing could have startled them but a kindness. Yes, here was a curious revelation, indeed, of the depth to which this people had been sunk in slavery. Their entire being was reduced to a monotonous dead level of patience, resignation, dumb uncomplaining acceptance of whatever might befall them in this life. Their very imagination was dead. When you can say that of a man, he has struck bottom, I reckon; there is no lower deep for him. ~ Mark Twain

Maybe you are just a liquid dream. Seeping into my soul in the dead of night when everything sleeps apart from my memories from another life, another electric, terrifying, lasciviously greedy time, when your lips touched my body, while mapping the skincape unfolding beneath your breath leaving a ripple of mesmerising carnal pleasures, lingering in my veins...Or maybe you are not... ~ Virginia Alison

You trace a finger over my scar and uncloak me like a timid star ... ~ John Geddes

Like God
Gumbo is hard
to get right
& I don't bother
asking for it outside
my mother's house.
Like life, there's no one
way to do it,
& a hundred ways,
from here to Sunday,
to get it dead wrong. ~ Kevin Young

Must I accept the barren Gift?
-learn death, and lose my Mastery?
Then let them know whose blood and breath
will take the Gift and set them free:
whose is the voice and whose the mind
to set at naught the well-sung Game-
when finned Finality arrives
and calls me by my secret Name.

Not old enough to love as yet,
but old enough to die, indeed-
-the death-fear bites my throat and heart,
fanged cousin to the Pale One's breed.
But past the fear lies life for all-
perhaps for me: and, past my dread,
past loss of Mastery and life,
the Sea shall yet give up Her dead!

Lone Power, I accept your Gift!
Freely I make death a part of me;
By my accept it is bound
into the lives of all the Sea-

yet what I do now binds to it
a gift I feel of equal worth:
I take Death with me, out of Time,
and make of it a path, a birth!

Let the teeth come! As they tear me,
they tear Your ancient hate for aye-
-so rage, proud Power! Fail again,
and see my blood teach Death to die! ~ Diane Duane

Life would be a great deal easier if dead things had the decency to remain dead. ~ Doug MacLeod

But even now, with the crates piled high in the hall, what I see most plainly about the books is that they are beautiful. They take up room? Of course they do: they are an environment; atoms, not bits. My books are not dead weight, they are live weight - matter infused by spirit, every one of them, even the silliest. They do not block the horizon; they draw it. They free me from the prison of contemporaneity: one should not live only in one's own time. A wall of books is a wall of windows. ~ Leon Wieseltier

I can't help feeling humiliated for Ithal. He stands at the wall and watches us go, and when we reach the turnoff for the school, he's still there with the mangled flower in his hands, far behind us a small, dying star fading out of our constellation. ~ Libba Bray

Every time you tell a lie an angel punches a unicorn in the face with a kitten. ~ Dave Turner

Only this shimmeriness is the real living. The shape is a dead crust. The shimmer is inside really. ~ D.H. Lawrence

The fact that some African Americans have experienced great success in recent years does not mean that something akin to a racial caste system no longer exists. No caste system in the United States has ever governed all black people; there have always been "free blacks" and black success stories, even during slavery and Jim Crow. The superlative nature of individual black achievement today in formerly white domains is a good indicator that the old Jim Crow is dead, but it does not necessarily mean the end of racial caste. If history is any guide, it may have simply taken a different form. ~ Michelle Alexander

Logically, when Maestro Gott some years ago, after an especially cruel critic had compared him to "a zombie who causes acute depression to innocent radio listeners", decided to stop performing in protest, the situation was considered so grave that the Minister of Culture himself went to console the deeply insulted star. ~ Terje B. Englund

Which of you is without sin? Let him cast the first stone." The people are abashed, and they forget their unity of purpose in the memory of their own individual sins. Someday, they think, I may be like this woman, and I'll hope for forgiveness and another chance. I should treat her the way I wish to be treated. As they open their hands and let the stones fall to the ground, the rabbi picks up one of the fallen stones, lifts it high over the woman's head, and throws it straight down with all his might. It crushes her skull and dashes her brains onto the cobblestones. "Nor am I without sin," he says to the people. "But if we allow only perfect people to enforce the law, the law will soon be dead, and our city with it. ~ Orson Scott Card

I'd like to do a film in Canada, but it's too difficult. National Film Board funding takes too long, and there's too much paperwork; by the time the film is approved the topic is dead and gone. ~ Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy

Suck it up! A foolish grumble of advice. Why would I want to suck it up? Why draw it in to let it fester and rot internally until it cankers my insides?

I dare offer wiser words―spit it out! Weep, wail, and raise your voice to the heavens as fresh wounds bleed dry! And then cast it all to the wasteland of dead concerns to be consumed by vultures and maggots. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich