Death Quote by J.K. Franko — Inspiring Words on Life, Love & Wisdom

“Mary Miracle would always recall with clarity the moment she decided to kill her husband.”

“This book is dedicated to my children, Pi, Coco, and Jay. When your grandkids are old enough to read this book, tell them how much I loved you.”

“It’s a divorce, not cancer.”

“Every cold case is someone’s failure. And while every failure has many illegitimate parents, usually, one person gets stuck with the kid. Scholz was this ugly baby’s mother. And mommas can be very temperamental about their babies, especially the ugly ones.”

“The children seek to resolve the issue amongst themselves, and mete out punishment to restore balance and keep the game going.”

“Each man is master of his own death, and all that we can do when the time comes is to help him die without fear of pain.”

“I killed four flies while waiting. Damn, death was everywhere. Man, bird, beast, reptile, rodent, insect, fish didn't have a chance. The fix was in. I didn't know what to do about it. I got depressed. You know, I see a boy at the supermarket, he's packing my groceries, then I see him sticking himself into his own grave along with the toilet paper, the beer and the chicken breasts.”

“How I wish I was like the water,”

“All creation necessarily ends in this: Creators, powerless, fleeing from the things they have wrought.”

“The man who kills a man kills a man.”

“You know what love is because you've studied it, not because you've felt it. You never will. You know what love is? It's this insidious thing that infects your eyes and ears, spreads to every inch of skin, the follicles of hair on the skin, the lips, the tongue, a hundred million microscopic organisms crawling on you. They commandeer the hollow of your thorax and your guts, your arms, your legs, your head, and other extremities. You cease to be yourself. You are now a vessel of impressions and thoughts of the person you love, of wishes for her, of dreams of her. You're jealous of the air she breathes because she takes it inside her all day and needs it to live; it becomes her, as you want to. You cast your thoughts of her and you an hour, a day, a week, a year, a hundred years into the future. No thought has the power to push itself as far into the future as the thought of love—not even thoughts of fame, or wealth, or death.”