i did not die, yet nothing of life remained.

And so beneath the weight lay I
And suffered death, but could not die.

That time I thought I could not go any closer to grief without dying I went closer, and I did not die.

I did not cry. I only breathed. Horribly. Intentionally. And then forgot to breathe.

"I lived," Dor said, "but I was not alive."

Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death snatches away many blooming children, the only hopes of their doting parents: how many brides and youthful lovers have been one day in the bloom of health and hope, and the next a prey for worms and the decay of the tomb! Of what materials was I made, that I could thus resist so many shocks, which, like the turning of the wheel, continually renewed the torture?
But I was doomed to live;

I am only alive because I have not yet died.

Life is not lost by dying. Life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day...

Death is not the end.

I was afraid I was going to die and then I was afraid I wasnt.

But as long as one is alive, one can be vital. But you don't give up until you stop breathing.

But I have lived, and have not lived in vain:
My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire,
And my frame perish even in conquering pain,
But there is that within me which shall tire
Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire

This my personal death? — That my lungs be failing
To inhale the breath
Others are exhaling?

I had no idea how to live, but I didn’t want to die.