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When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease - of joy that kills.
The first novel I wrote was a monster - clocking in at 180,000 words - but it died a death, a death it deserved. It was called 'The Gods First Make Mad.' It was a good title, but it was the only good thing about the book. I didn't let that put me off.
For books are more than books, they are the life, the very heart and core of ages past, the reason why men lived and worked and died, the essence and quintessence of their lives.
I think if my child died I would prefer it if I were dead.
Not long before my mother died, I found a long-lost portrait of Jane Franklin's granddaughter, Jane Flagg, aged nine - oil on canvas - in the basement of a public library not a dozen miles from my mother's house.
My Bubbie lived to 104, which is probably a little too old to consider a ripe old age, because she had already started to turn. I still say she died young.
No operatic star has yet died soon enough for me.
I was just thinking of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe and how young they were when they died. I would like to be a pop icon who survives. I would like to be a living icon.
I was never honest. My father died, and I had never said to him, 'I'm gay.' I knew what I was, but I had to pretend not to be that to avoid the beatings.
The best definition of an immortal is someone who hasn't died yet.
There comes a crossroads in every marriage where you grow together or grow apart. I outgrew Len. He wanted me to be in that leather jumpsuit for the rest of my life and do nothing else. He constrained me. It got to a point where the marriage died or I did.
I ought to rejoice in the fact that our principal rival has died, but I don't.
I once tried to raise two tomato plants, and they died in spite of the fact I fertilized them every morning. Duh.
To survive, China had to open up to the West. It could not survive otherwise. This was after many millions have died of hunger in a country that was like North Korea is today. Once we became part of global competition, we had to agree to some rules. It's painful, but we had to. Otherwise there was no way to survive.
I think English punk died in '79 or '80. Maybe '82 at the latest. As far as American punk goes, it wasn't the same as English punk. It wasn't a working-class movement that was protesting the conditions under which this class had to work. I don't think American punk ever died.
I did feel when my mother died if anyone was going to haunt me it would be her. And she hasn't, so I think it is possibly the end.
When my parents died they both were 47, and they died of complications of different diseases; one being diabetes.
All of us in society are supposed to believe that cruelty to animals is wrong and that it is a good thing to prevent needless suffering. So if that is true, how can meat be acceptable under any but the most extraordinary circumstances, such as perhaps roasting the bird who died flying into a window?
When I was young, I used to wear a lot of wigs, and I was running on stage at a gig and tripped over and it fell off. It was in the 1970s, and Swansea were doing really well in the league, and most of the team were there. I almost died, but I picked it up, put it back on my head and carried on.
My driving habits are so ingrained that the driving examiner would fail me in the first mile. That's provided he hadn't died of a heart attack by then.
The weird thing about grief, for me at least, was when each of my parents died, for a year or two afterwards I was pretty wildly brave - just willing to take life on.
I have one brother, John, an airline pilot, who is seven years younger. He's adopted, though we're still blood related - he's my cousin. My parents couldn't have any more children after me, so when Dad's brother died, they adopted John, then just a baby.
I find my husband's family history fascinating, as they can trace the family lineage back to ancestors who fought, and died, in the first battle of the Revolution, as well as to many other interesting people.
My younger sister Debby had died of cancer, which started me writing - the sense of life being short. Cancer focuses your mind.
Growing up in Ireland, when my family received important news, good or bad, we would boil water and make tea. It was the first thing I did when my father died in 1984. This ritual allowed me a moment to take in the enormity of what had happened.
A. P. J. Abdul Kalam
John F. Kennedy
Martin Luther King, Jr.
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