“I would be delighted if there were life after death . . . but I am also a scientist . . .” Apparently he thinks that as a scientist, he has a right to demand that the Supreme Being come under his scrutiny. — Astronomer Carl Sagan’
They are openly committing suicide, and the rest of the people are covertly committing suicide. This man who found out how to construct an atom bomb—he’s thinking that now his life is successful.
Scientists investigating the causes of aging and death will also have to die. At the time of their death, if they have neglected the purpose of life–spiritual realization–what will they have gained?
We long for permanence. Although aging is foretold by our very birth, we nevertheless fight to stave off its insidious encroach. Faced with mounting evidence that we will grow old and die, we may resort to various psychological schemes for relief.
Mr. Shaw or Mahatma Gandhi both are distinguished thinkers and lead the world in respect of many things. There are other great men and scientists who are equally respected leaders of thought in the world but none of them has ever tried to solve the question of death
Through the ages Western man has alternately pondered or ignored death, the most persistent yet least understood fact of our existence.
For the yogi his practice is most severely tested at the time of death. The Supreme Personality of Godhead says, “Anyone who quits his body, at the end of life, remembering Me, attains immediately to My nature; and there is no doubt of this.”
Seeing only unhappiness in their futures young people are taking their own lives in numbers that are shocking. Surprisingly, many of the victims are quite well off in terms of material well-being and social status.
My sister called and told me, “Dad has cancer, and the doctors say he has, at most, six months to live.” I was shocked. It was totally unexpected, as he was only sixty and quite fit for his age.
In many countries people follow the custom of leading a procession of decorated dead body for the pleasure of the lamenting relatives and in the same way the modern trend of civilization is a patch up work of human activities for covering the perpetual miseries of material existence.
Ghosts are denied any existence in the modern scheme of things, but nevertheless the exploits of such beings are widely reported in newspapers, periodicals and books, and on television as well.
While recently watching the evening news, I saw that almost the entire show was about killing and death: a murder, a rash of drug poisonings, a massacre of refugees by military forces, and a sampling of wars and preparations for war.
By disease, accident or providence every one of us will be forced out of our body for what seems an unknown destination. Death’s stroke doesn’t wait for us to resolve our unfinished business, nor does it heed our careful moves to stave it off. When it’s time to go, you go.
The crash of a Boeing 737 jetliner in which 78 people died, raises the perennial question of why people feel compelled to travel so much. Domestically, Americans travel more than a trillion miles every year by air, rail, car, and bus, at a cost of $250 billion.
He was the consummate student, disciplined, industrious. Eventually my friend Ralph, in his search for meaning, committed suicide at the age of sixteen. No one was less surprised than me.