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Think of the earth as a living organism that is being attacked by billions of bacteria whose numbers double every forty years. Either the host dies, or the virus dies, or both die.
The tragedy of life is in what dies inside a man while he lives - the death of genuine feeling, the death of inspired response, the awareness that makes it possible to feel the pain or the glory of other men in yourself.
It's either not good enough and dies altogether, or it develops.
Stand-up comedy is an art form and it dies unless you expand it.
I collect art. I just recently bought two gorgeous photographs of Marilyn Monroe by international photographer Eve Arnold and I know it sounds horrible but when she dies all her pictures are going to be worth triple. But I won't tell you how much I got them for - let's just say it was a lot.
Every time I use an app, part of my brain dies! We'll get to the point where we go to bed and wonder: 'Did I have a thought today?' You'll have to go to your 'Thought' app!
My view is that life is too short. I'm not being melodramatic or anything, but when your mother dies in your arms - just you and her, and it's one o'clock in the morning, and you're waiting for her to exhale - you just think, life's too bloody short to argue about the little things.
The world dies over and over again, but the skeleton always gets up and walks.
A man does not die of love or his liver or even of old age; he dies of being a man.
From plants that wake when others sleep, from timid jasmine buds that keep their odour to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.