Our life is made by the death of others.

Unser Leben hängt davon ab, was wir aus dem machen, was aus uns gemacht wurde.

Death starves us of life. So we learn to fabricate our own immortalities.

We trouble our life by thoughts about death, and our death by thoughts about life.

كلنا مدينون بحياتنا لغيرنا

Each death of someone close to me has come as a slap, reminding me again of my own mortality, compelling me to ask: What am I accomplishing? Is my life meaningful? When Abuelita died, I felt spurred to study even harder in

Nuestro tiempo es finito, así que no lo malgasten viviendo la vida de otro

It is not because other people are dead that our affection for them grows faint, it is because we ourselves are dying.

People have their own deaths as well as their own lives, and even if there is nothing beyond death, we shall differ in our nothingness.

We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways.

The continuous work of our life is to build death.

لا تحيا حياة الآخرين..فالوقت محدود

What we live by we die by.

We all owe death a life.