Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they
know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.

The dead never truly die. They simply change form.

Dead people, dead ideas and supposedly dead moments are never really dead and they shape every moment of our lives. We ignore them and this makes them powerful.

What's dead may never die.

The dead are never silent.

We cannot think or act, but the soul of some man, who has lived before, points the way. The dead never die.

No soul remembered is ever really gone.

After you die, you cannot die again. And if you cannot die again, you are immortal.

There is no death, daughter. People die only when we forget them,' my mother explained shortly before she left me. 'If you can remember me, I will be with you always.

The dead don't die. They look on and help.

Have you ever sensed that our soul is immortal and never dies?

When someone dies, the relationship doesn't die with them.

Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.

To die completely, a person must not only forget but be forgotten, and he who is not forgotten is not dead.