The doctors realized in retrospect that even though most of these dead had also suffered from burns and blast effects, they had absorbed enough radiation to kill them. The rays simply destroyed body cells – caused their nuclei to degenerate and broke their walls.
A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.
I moved to LA and decided to do films and television, mainly because the theater in New York is totally dead.
Writing about dead white males seems to be out of favor among academics.
Alas, how quickly the gratitude owed to the dead flows off, how quick to be proved a deceiver.
You see I don’t like to be really too commercial about things but in this business you’ve just got to be commercial otherwise the films don’t make money and you don’t make films and as a long as a commodity is selling it’s silly to kill it dead.
Do I get recognized? I guess it depends on if I’m wearing a hat or not. The hairdo is a dead giveaway. There’s nothing I can do. It’s just the way my hair grows.
The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
Oh, Spring! I want to go out and feel you and get inspiration. My old things seem dead. I want fresh contacts, more vital searching.
I wouldn’t specifically say rock n’ roll is dead, but I don’t see a lot of charismatic performers in the way of new blood who are edgy and dangerous on stage, like Marilyn Manson, who you never quite know if he’s going to make it through his own show.
The foolish and the dead alone never change their opinions.
Unbeing dead isn’t being alive.
Faith without works is dead.
You’re over there in the corner either thinking about the dead dog or whatever, you’re bringing up your personal life and you need the space, and then somebody throws you a joke. Especially if it’s an emotional scene, you don’t want the joke.
I don’t want to be a dead hero.
If you don’t optimize for the consumer on the Internet, you’re dead.
I’m dead fussy about food: I don’t eat junk.
I think that it’s interesting how shows like ‘Walking Dead’ or even ‘Game of Thrones,’ with all its fantasy elements, have become so popular. Sometimes, though, I get a little bit annoyed because the whole nerd thing taking over and is now cool, and it wasn’t cool when I was younger.
The way I see it, the earth is going to be here after we’re dead and gone. Even if it’s a polluted planet, and they messed it up. Where do they go from here – to another planet so they can mess that up too?
Since I was shot, everything is such a dream to me. Like I don’t know whether I’m alive or whether I died. I wasn’t afraid before. And having been dead once, I shouldn’t feel fear. But I am afraid. I don’t understand why.
God isn’t dead – he’s just missing in action.
I believe if someone is authentic, they shouldn’t have to advertise. If you can really talk to the dead, people are going to hear about it.
If a writer doesn’t generate hostility, he is dead.
To love someone is to isolate him from the world, wipe out every trace of him, dispossess him of his shadow, drag him into a murderous future. It is to circle around the other like a dead star and absorb him into a black light.
Beloved friends and comrades… the national Libertarian Party is dead.
A strong hatred is the best lamp to bear in our hands as we go over the dark places of life, cutting away the dead things men tell us to revere.
I always hated the Grateful Dead. Never even bought a Led Zeppelin album.
I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick. Not wounded. Dead.
Half the issues they – are so polished they’re talking about – are dead by the time they get into the office, and into the midst of their tour where they’re really productive.
Before the Civil War, there were no national cemeteries, no processes for identifying the dead in the battle. There weren’t any dog tags, and there was no next-of-kin notification. You didn’t necessarily even hear what the fate of your loved ones had been. It was up to their comrades to write and inform you.
If it wasn’t for my sport and my father, I’d probably be a fallen statistic. I’d be dead; I’d be in jail. Luckily, I had a great dad in my life.
We treated all of the dead with dignity.
One hundred religious persons knit into a unity by careful organizations do not constitute a church any more than eleven dead men make a football team. The first requisite is life, always.
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead station.
In 1973, ‘Sizwe Banzi is Dead’ and ‘The Island,’ which I co-wrote with Athol Fugard and Winston Ntshona, transferred from The Royal Court Theatre to the Ambassadors Theatre in the West End.
Against the State, against the Church, against the silence of the medical profession, against the whole machinery of dead institutions of the past, the woman of today arises.
When you’re dead, you’re dead. I believe in shapes – you’re not conscious of it, but you’re like a tree that grows but takes a particular shape that is prewritten.
I’ve had a wonderful life. What people are going to write about me 10 years after I’m dead – who cares?
You’re going to die. You’re going to be dead. It could be 20 years, it could be tomorrow, anytime. So am I. I mean, we’re just going to be gone. The world’s going to go on without us. All right now. You do your job in the face of that, and how seriously you take yourself you decide for yourself.
A living thing is distinguished from a dead thing by the multiplicity of the changes at any moment taking place in it.
What makes a book great, a so-called classic, it its quality of always being modern, of its author, though he be long dead, continuing to speak to each new generation.
Was the real Jesus of history one and the same as the Christ of faith whom we read about in the New Testament and worship in the church? Was Jesus really raised from the dead? Is he really the divine Lord of lords?
I’m probably more dangerous in a car than I am on a motorbike; on a bike I’m very mindful of the fact that if you make a mistake, you’re dead.
In the earliest years of the AIDS crisis, there were many gay men who were unable to come out about the fact that their lovers were ill, A, and then dead, B. They were unable to get access to the hospital to see their lover, unable to call their parents and say, ‘I have just lost the love of my life.’
I do not believe in any legacy. The past is dead and gone.
People take the longest possible paths, digress to numerous dead ends, and make all kinds of mistakes. Then historians come along and write summaries of this messy, nonlinear process and make it appear like a simple, straight line.
Years ago we discovered the exact point, the dead center of middle age. It occurs when you are too young to take up golf and too old to rush up to the net.
When I was 6 years old, I was in a rock band that was horrible called ‘Dead End.’ The name kind of described us. People liked us; we would go and perform at coffee houses and stuff.
I am a spiritual person. I’m a Catholic. I treat my patients, the dead patients, as live patients. I believe there is life after death. And I talk to my patients. I talk to them, not loudly but quietly in my heart when I look at them. Before I do an autopsy, I must have a visual contact with the face.
Woman absent is woman dead.
We’re here for such a short period of time. Live like you’re already dead, man. Have a good time. Do your best. Let it all come ripping right through you.
In the long run we are all dead.
Whoever said love is blind is dead wrong. Love is the only thing that lets us see each other with the remotest accuracy.
I think that the job of poetry, its political job, is to refresh the idea of justice, which is going dead in us all the time.
Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who’s sorry for a gnat or girl?
Jimi Hendrix, the Who, the Dead, Zeppelin, the Beatles – I paint to this music all of the time.
If the government ever imposes a tax on books – and I wouldn’t put it past them – I’m in dead trouble.
Men may rise on stepping stones of their dead selves to higher things.
A Harris poll I’ve seen says only 12 percent of the electorate names taxes as one of the most important issues facing the nation. Voters put tax cuts dead last, behind education, Social Security, health care, Medicare and poverty.
My only rule: I never photographed the face of the dead, ever, out of respect for the families.
Those who live, live off the dead.
Chivalry is dead.
We’ve thrown out Saddam and Saddam, dead or alive, is finished in Iraq.
Should I perchance still feel after my death, I would no longer have any doubt, but I would most certainly give the lie to anyone asserting before me that I was dead.
I remember we woke up one morning at Denny’s house and John Phillips called. He said, you guys okay? We said, yeah, what’s wrong, what’s going on? He said, well, everybody’s dead over at Sharon’s house at Terry Melcher’s place.
