A memory lasts forever. Never does it die. True friends stay together. And never say goodbye.
— Anonymous
Killer Friend Died quotations
There was a day when I died; died to self, my opinions, preferences, tastes and will; died to the world, its approval or censure; died to the approval or blame even of my brethren or friends; and since then I have studied only to show myself approved unto God.

The trouble is not in dying for a friend, but in finding a friend worth dying for.

I have always done my duty. I am ready to die. My only regret is for the friends I leave behind me.
Let my name die everywhere, let even my friends forget me, if by that means the cause of the blessed Jesus may be promoted
Our apologies, good friends, for the fracture of good order, the burning of paper instead of children. How many must die before our voices are heard, how many must be tortured, dislocated, starved, maddened? When, at what point, will you say no to this war?

Man is a complex being: he makes deserts bloom - and lakes die.
I went to a psychologist friend and said if 500 people claimed to see Jesus after he died, it was just a hallucination. He said hallucinations are an individual event. If 500 people have the same hallucination, that's a bigger miracle than the resurrection.
Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.

From woman, man is born; within woman, man is conceived; to woman he is engaged and married. Woman becomes his friend; through woman, the future generations come. When his woman dies, he seeks another woman; to woman he is bound. So why call her bad? From her, kings are born. From woman, woman is born; without woman, there would be no one at all.
A sage once said, ‘How shall I open my heart, oh friend? It is forbidden for me to speak. I am about to die for lack of a kindred soul to understand my misery. Simply by looking in her eyes I find the beloved of my heart. But rare is such a soul who swims in ecstatic bliss on the high tide of heavenly love.
If Christ has died for me, ungodly as I am, without strength as I am, then I cannot live in sin any longer. I must arouse myself to love and serve Him who has redeemed me. I cannot trifle with the evil that killed my best Friend. I must be holy for His sake. How can I live in sin when He has died to save me from it?

A foolish physician he is, and a most unfaithful friend, that will let a sick man die for fear of troubling him; and cruel wretches are we to our friends, that will rather suffer them to go quietly to hell, then we will anger them, or hazard our reputation with them.
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye My love, you are in my heart.
It was preordained we should part And be reunited by and by. Goodbye: no handshake to endure. Let's have no sadness - furrowed brow. There's nothing new in dying now Though living is no newer.
He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth.
I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!

You don’t read, you don’t understand.
You don’t know what it’s like to live in different worlds, to travel on great adventures through the galaxy with people you know better than you know your own family. To live and die with them. These are my friends, my best friends in the world.
I have a file of letters and bits of ephemera from friends who have died.
I have had lots of friends who died of AIDS.
I had a friend, Melissa, who was 28 years old.
She was my best friend's wife, and she was my wife's best friend. She died of breast cancer. When she passed away back in 2004 was the last time I cried.

Let me tell you how the story ends, where the good guys die and the bad guys win. It doesn't matter how many friend you make, but the graffite they write on your grave.
The English language has about 450,000 commonly used words, but more may be needed. What to you call someone who has lost a sibling or had a miscarriage? Or a gay person whose partner has died? Or an elderly person who has lost every friend and relative? So many heartaches can't be found in the dictionary.
If Christ has died for me, I cannot trifle with the evil that killed my best Friend.

People in suburbia see trees differently than foresters do.
They cherish every one. It is useless to speak of the probability that a certain tree will die when the tree is in someone's backyard . . . . You are talking about a personal asset, a friend, a monument, not about board feet of lumber.
Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.
Under a tyranny, most friends are a liability.
One quarter of them turn "reasonable" and become your enemies, one quarter are afraid to speak, and one quarter are killed and you die with them. But the blessed final quarter keep you alive.

The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for.
Grandfather says that when your friends die you must not cry.
You must not hurt anybody or do harm to anyone. You must not fight. Do right always. It will give you satisfaction in life.
Enjoy life. Have fun. Be kind. Have worth. Have friends. Be honest. Laugh. Die with dignity. Make the most of it. It's all we've got.

When I start getting old, I'm going to start ending my prayers like, "Lord, it'd be a good day to die." I don't wanna be 130 years old with a diaper on, all my friends dead and gone. I wanna get to heaven, come get me!
Tell your friend that in his death, a part of you dies and goes with him.
Wherever he goes, you also go. He will not be alone.
For my heart is always with Him, day and night it thinks unceasingly of its heavenly and divine Friend, to whom it wants to prove its affection. Also within it arises this desire: not to die, but to suffer long, to suffer for God, to give Him its life while praying for poor sinners.

I think in the end we all know that our best friend is ourselves.
We are born alone and we die alone. That's the journey.
There are 10,000 books in my library, and it will keep growing until I die.
This has exasperated my daughters, amused my friends and baffled my accountant. If I had not picked up this habit in the library long ago, I would have more money in the bank today; I would not be richer.
The two most misused words in the entire English vocabulary are love and friendship. A true friend would die for you, so when you start trying to count them on one hand, you don't need any fingers.
It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows how to use with wisdom the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland.
I can't forgive my friends for dying; I don't find these vanishing acts of theirs at all amusing.