Suicide Quotes

We kill for lies, kill for lies.
Murder our love to save our pride
We kill for lies, kill for lies
Love poisons truth, Love suicides.

"Oh I had no clue you were masking a troubled soul, God only knows what went wrong.."

The suicide bomber is an explosion of a contradiction in its paradox, victim and victimizer, yin and yang, two sides of the coin, fire bomb and fire extinguisher, prosecutor and defendant, hangman and hanged.

In Santiago, the capital of the kingdom of Chile, at the moment of the great earthquake of 1647 in which many thousands lost their lives, a young Spaniard called Jeronimo Rugera was standing beside one of the pillars in the prison to which he had been committed on a criminal charge, and he was about to hang himself.

Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do not blame the drugs.

Killing oneself is, anyway, a misnomer. We don't kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, "He fought so hard." And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that no fight was involved, that somebody simply gave up. This is quite wrong.

When people are suicidal, their thinking is paralyzed, their options appear spare or nonexistent, their mood is despairing, and hopelessness permeates their entire mental domain. The future cannot be separated from the present, and the present is painful beyond solace. ‘This is my last experiment,’ wrote a young chemist in his suicide note. ‘If there is any eternal torment worse than mine I’ll have to be shown.

I think many people kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't.

Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

If they tell you that she died of sleeping pills you must know that she died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul.

....it's not your life, it's life. Life is bigger than you if you can imagine that. Life isn't something you possess, it's something you take part in and you witness.

I got my reasons to live I worked hard to figure out what they are. I'm not just handing them to you. You want a reason to live? Have a drink of water and get some sleep, wake up in the morning and try again like everybody else does.

The future is just old age and illness and pain...I must have peace and this is the only way.

So how upset were you when you woke up in the ER and you were still alive? And a failure?

I myself spent nine years in an insane asylum and I never had the obsession of suicide, but I know that each conversation with a psychiatrist, every morning at the time of his visit, made me want to hang myself, realizing that I would not be able to cut his throat.

All real suicides, where people really died, were the result of a battle between being and mind. In those cases the mind won ...

The blood jet is poetry,
There is no stopping it.

The progressive agenda - lavish social welfare, abortion, agnosticism, multiculturalism - is collectively the real suicide bomb.

I had no thoughts at all, only an overwhelming desire not to feel anything ever again.