R.i.p. Quotes

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

Real artists ship.

She tried to compose herself then, with several deep breaths. I gave her as long as she needed, all the while mentally designing my tombstone. R.I.P, Captain Abraham R. Griswold. He was completely useless and made girls cry.

HERE LIES THE MYSTERY PISSER P.I.P.

I will live this day as if it is my last. …I will waste not a moment mourning yesterday’s misfortunes, Yesterday’s defeats, yesterday’s aches of the heart, for why should I throw good after bad?” I will live this day as if it is my last. This day is all I have and these hours are now my eternity. I greet this sunrise with cries of joy as a prisoner who is reprieved from death. I lift mine arms with thanks for this priceless gift of a new day. So too, I will beat upon my heart with gratitude as I consider all who greeted yesterday’s sunrise who are no longer with the living today. I am indeed a fortunate man and today’s hours are but a bonus, undeserved. Why have I been allowed to live this extra day when others, far better than I, have departed? Is it that they have accomplished their purpose while mine is yet to be achieved? Is this another opportunity for me to become the man I know I can be?

I wish R.I.P meant Return If Possible...

I find it easier to believe in God than to believe Hamlet was deduced from the molecular structure of a mutton chop.

How come she never got sad?” She did get sad, Booboo. She got sad in her way instead of yours and mine. She got sad, I’m pretty sure.” Hal?” You remember how the staff lowered the flag to half-mast out front by the portcullis here after it happened? Do you remember that? And it goes to half-mast every year at Convocation? Remember the flag, Boo?” Hey Hal?” Don’t cry, Booboo. Remember the flag only halfway up the pole? Booboo, there are two ways to lower a flag to half-mast. Are you listening? Because no shit I really have to sleep here in a second. So listen - one way to lower the flag to half mast is just to lower the flag. There’s another way though. You can also just raise the pole. You can raise the pole to like twice its original height. You get me? You understand what I mean, Mario?” Hal?” She’s plenty sad, I bet.

La caligine si era diradata e Bor avvertì una morsa al cuore. Avrebbe preferito che la nebbia gli avesse impedito di vederla piangere. Non sopportava le sue lacrime, lo facevano sentire debole perché il cuore lacrimava sangue quando lei soffriva.

THIS WORLD IS FULL OF KINGS AND QUEENS WHO'LL BLIND YOUR EYES AND STEAL YOUR DREAMS. IT'S HEAVEN AND HELL. \,,/ \,,/

Father, R.I.P., Sums Me Up at Twenty-Three She has no head for politics, craves good jewelry, trusts too readily, marries too early. Then one by one she sends away her friends and stands apart, smug sapphire, her answer to everything a slender zero, a silent shrug--and every day still hears me say she'll never be pretty. Instead she reads novels, instead her belt matches her shoes. She is master of the condolence letter, and knows how to please a man with her mouth: Good. Nose too large, eyes too closely set, hair not glorious blonde, not her mother's red, nor the glossy black her younger sister has, the little raven I loved best.

R.I.P. Tom Conlon O'Rourke. Not Dead, just Sleeping.

Not everyone who died had left a "memory" and not everyone who had left a memory had left a "blessed" one. Therefore, not all have died should be tagged "...of a blessed memory

Rimasero in silenzio mentre i loro occhi si cibavano gli uni degli altri, senza parole perché quelle tra loro erano inutili. L’alchimia che c’era stata sin dal loro primo incontro era qualcosa di indescrivibile che nessuno dei due aveva mai provato prima. Lui era lo Yang, il lato virile e potente dell’essenza che creavano insieme, e lei era lo Yin, la femminilità, la delicatezza che colmava le mancanze dell’altro. Solo insieme erano completi, lontani erano come un giocattolo rotto.

No, sorry, bro. R.I.P didn’t know anything more about her. Even called the branches myself but kept getting different folk. Like finding a needle in a haystack, eh? Not sure what I’d have said anyway – ‘hi, which one of you bitches wants to listen to me die?’ Lolz. I replied with a ‘lolz’ of my own but nothing about this amused me.

I gave [Nora] as long as she needed, all the while mentally designing my tombstone. 'R.I.P., Captain Abraham R. Griswold. He was completely useless and made girls cry.

Ljubav smo skratili na v.t., a smrt na r.i.p. (Kad umrem, ako mi itko napiše r.i.p. neka ga vrag odnese!)

Il Venator insinuò la gamba sotto l’inguine del demone e si abbassò all’altezza degli arti inferiori. L’essere perse l’equilibrio e precipitò a terra. Bor gli fu subito sopra, ma il mostro aveva grande forza nelle braccia e parò il colpo che il cacciatore aveva inferto. Asia tremava. Guardava la scena con ansia e tensione. Non si accorse dell’altra creatura vomitata dalla terra maledetta che l’aveva raggiunta alle spalle. L’Incubo indossava abiti ormai sporchi e laceri, ma il corpo era ancora in uno stato di decomposizione non avanzato. I lineamenti erano definiti e i due occhi che puntavano la sua vittima sembravano ancora vivi.

Bor era bello da fare male. Il cuore della ragazza saltò un battito quando il suo profumo le raggiunse le narici e inondò la sua mente come una droga. Un accenno di barba disegnava il contorno appuntito del mento e le labbra si schiusero in un ghigno ferino da animale pronto alla caccia. «Ti voglio attenta e pronta. Ti insegnerò a difenderti. Non sono qui per giocare o rivangare il passato. E ora muoviti, non ho tempo da perdere, anzi, non abbiamo tempo da perdere.» Voltandosi e scendendo le scale tre gradini alla volta aggiunse: «Ti aspetto in strada, sono quello figo sulla moto». Le guance di Asia divennero paonazze, mentre stringeva i pugni con intensità fino a sentire il sudore delle mani appiccicarle la pelle. Con un'espressione degna di un drago sputa fuoco, Asia rimase a guardare Bor che usciva di casa. Vomitò un urlo a dir poco agghiacciante che miscelava rabbia e frustrazione.

Prima di ripartire doveva tentare di dormire almeno qualche ora, oppure sarebbe crollato durante il viaggio e non poteva permettersi un tale e grossolano errore, non con l’esperienza di guerriero che aveva. Questa era la differenza tra chi non aveva un’educazione alla guerra e chi aveva vissuto sempre in battaglia. Non c’era cosa peggiore del moto incontrollabile della disperazione per portare un combattente a perdere. La mente avrebbe dovuto essere lucida e pronta, il corpo riposato e forte per vincere. Per chi non aveva la mentalità del guerriero poteva sembrare assurdo anche solo vagliare l’idea del riposo in una simile situazione, ma con la lucidità dell’autocontrollo tipica di un Venator, l’unico modo per vincere era proprio quello.

Bor era appostato davanti all’entrata di casa, indossava il suo cappotto e un cappellino di lana. Le braccia erano incrociate sul petto e tutto di lui sembrava essere impaziente. «L’appuntamento con la tua amica è alle dieci, muoviti dai!» esordì. Asia non rispose e rimase a fissarlo per un tempo indefinito. Era sbigottita. «E tu che ne sai?», chiese non appena si riprese dallo stupore. «Tua madre stamattina presto è rientrata. Ti ha lasciato qualcosa da mangiare in cucina.» Cambiò discorso. Non guardava la ragazza mentre parlava, teneva lo sguardo fisso sulle braccia di Asia accartocciate in modo irrequieto. «Non ho fame. È tua abitudine origliare le conversazioni altrui?» insistette lei con caparbietà. Solo allora il Venator alzò gli occhi e catturò con il suo sguardo intenso la mente di lei. «Non origlio, sono entrato in camera tua mentre lo dicevi. Semplice. Se non devi mangiare allora copriti e andiamo.» «Per quale assurda ragione dovresti venire con me?» «Anche io voglio vedere come sta Nowak.» Asia non osò ribattere. Afferrò con un moto di stizza il suo piumino e uscì seguendo il Venator. La nebbia copriva il fiume Vistola e rendeva tutto ovattato e silenzioso, nonostante non fosse più mattino presto. Bor le porse il casco e si sedette sulla sua cavalcatura. «L’ospedale dista dieci minuti a piedi, non vengo con te in moto. Voglio fare una passeggiata» rifiutò la proposta. «Come vuoi» rispose secco lui intanto che scendeva e iniziava a camminarle davanti. Asia rimase ferma per un istante e poi con una rapida corsa lo raggiunse posizionandosi al suo fianco. «Guarda che la mia passeggiata doveva essere solitaria», affermò. «Saprò essere invisibile e silenzioso.» Cosa diavolo vuole questo cavernicolo da me? si domandò lei, mentre manteneva il passo svelto di Bor. (brano tratto da R.I.P. Requiescat In Pace di Eilan Moon)

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night- Edgar Allan Poe Sometimes

I'm a working stiff, baby, just like everybody else.

I'm just a kid who's 4 Each day I grow some more I like exploring I'm Caillou So many things to do Each day is something new I'll share them with you I'm Caillou My life is turning Changing each day! With mommy and daddy I'm Finding my way Growing up is not so tough Except when I've had enough But there's lots of fun stuff I'm Caillou Caillou Caillou I'm Caillou That's me!

Bor scoppiò a ridere. Asia adorava il suo sorriso perché lui era un uomo virile come nessun altro, ma quelle poche volte che rideva, il viso si trasformava e a lei sembrava di poter leggere quell’anima complessa come fosse divenuta d’improvviso trasparente, e quello che vi scorgeva era un individuo dalla sensibilità distruggente e dal coraggio più folle. Ecco perché lo amava in modo tanto doloroso e immenso, perché lui era la completezza. Lui era forte e fragile, sapeva amare e odiare, era la luce e le tenebre, ma solo a lei era permesso guardare nell’antro della bestia e trovarvi il principe.

Obvious variations aside, there's only one human body. 206 bones, five major organs, 60,000 miles of blood vessels. All it takes is time. Days. Months. Years, spent memorizing the finite ways there are to hurt and break a man. Preparing for all of them. I've escaped from every conceivable deathtrap. Ten times. A dozen times. I can slow my breathing and metabolism to control panic and conserve air. Straitjacket's kindergarten. Locks, too. Benchpressing a pine coffin lid through 600 pounds of loose soil that's filling your mouth, crushing your lungs flat, and shredding your dehydrated muscles? That's harder. But far from impossible.

Rosemary Klein, Winchester, England: Always keep your knees together, ladies; they are best friends. Sister Rosemary Carroll, R.I.P. Katy Kidd Wright, a friend who described herself as a “non-RC heathen raising RC kids going to Catholic schools” confirmed that ashes on foreheads was still in vogue. “The modern curriculum even has a robotics lesson in Grade 2 where my eldest learned to mechanize Mary and Joseph's walk to Bethlehem.” In my school days, we wrote JMJ on the top of scribbler pages for a Holy Family Jesus, Mary, and Joseph blessing. Other times, we wrote BVM for the Blessed Virgin Mary. It was an alphabet acronym heaven. Whenever Dad felt no one was listening to him, he spoke to the Blessed Virgin Mary statue on the living room mantle. They talked a lot.

clitty.

a seven-letter Latin abbreviation that was as widely used in antiquity as “R.I.P.” (“Rest in Peace,” itself from the Latin requiescat in pace) has been in the modern world. The abbreviation is “n.f. f. n.s. n.c.” Translated, it provides a most trenchant summary of the materialist views endorsed and promoted by Epicurus, Lucretius, and their followers: non fui, fui, non sum, non curo—“I was not. I was. I am not. I care not.

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple- Dr. Seuss I

Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today- James Dean The

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead- Marilyn Monroe If

If you're going through hell, keep going- Winston Churchill

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity- Edgar Allan Poe

Opening the box, they withdrew the thick plastic grave markers. His lips twitched as he scanned the epitaphs: R.I.P. Van Winkle, Dee Cayed, I.M. Gone, and Barry R. Bones. "Dracula, Fangs for the Memories," he read aloud and, chuckled. Grace held up her favorite. "Rigger Mortys. Death Grips and Holds Me Tight, But I Shall Return on Halloween Night." Tongue-in-cheek, he asked her, "What would your headstone say?" "She Threw a Great Party," came to mind. "How about yours?" "Death by Decorating.

I am feeling disgusted with myself and having a heavy heart. That I didn’t get time to share other people’s work, talent, skills, business on my social platform to support them, but the only time I share something regarding them is R.I.P and message of condolences to their family and loved ones.

You have to do something, while waiting for death.

She’s pouting right now because she’s mad. It’s adorable. All I want to do is fuck that petulant mouth. I hate when she’s angry with me, but it looks so beautiful on her.

My door hits the wall when it swings open behind me. Turning around, my eyes widen at the vision of her, and my heart pounds with a hard thud. She’s wearing her new dress with her white socks and black Mary Janes. Her hair is curled, half of it tied up with a pink ribbon. I’ve never seen her with makeup on before. She’s…fuck, she’s gorgeous.

I’m gonna stab, stab, stab the man, disembowel his guts, scoop out both his eyeballs, and cut off both his nuts!

Adriel’s beautiful, gray eyes widen with her grin, and I snort. “I can’t say that I have.” She lifts ‘Optimus Bunny Boo’, a rabbit-legged Bratz doll wearing the head of one of my old Transformers. As she shifts around, her Hello Kitty panties flash at me, swelling up my throat. My face burns hot, and even though my stomach turns in embarrassment, I wish I had the courage to ask her to spread her legs wider so I can see…

Brushing my mouth across his chest, I whisper, “I think we’re perfect. It’s everyone else who’s fucked up.

Mom’s face softens. “Of course we kill them, sweetheart. It’s the only way to guarantee they won’t keep hurting people.

you will continue to live in the hearts of us you'll always an Hero of Africa, your name will stay in our mind we will never forget your past until the end of world. May god rest your soul in peace. R.I.P Nelson Mandela

Of all the things I once cared for, I had none then. I have none now.

R.I.P to That girl you called a slut in class today. She's a virgin. The pregnant girl walking down the street . She got raped . The boy you called lame. He has to work every night to support his family. That girl you pushed down the other day. She's already being abused at home. That girl you called fat. She's starving herself. The old man you made fun of cause of the ugly scars. He fought for our country. The boy you made fun of for crying. His mother is dying. You think you know them. Guess what? You don't!