The Afterlife Quotes

“The dead do not need
aspirin or
sorrow,
I suppose.
but they might need
rain.
not shoes
but a place to
walk.
not cigarettes,
they tell us,
but a place to
burn.
or we're told:
space and a place to
fly
might be the
same.
the dead don't need
me.
nor do the
living.
but the dead might need
each
other.
in fact, the dead might need
everything we
need
and
we need so much
if we only knew
what it
was.
it is
probably
everything
and we will all
probably die
trying to get
it
or die
because we
don't get
it.
I hope
you will understand
when I am dead
I got
as much
as
possible.”
― Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946-1966

“Death comes to me again, a girl
in a cotton slip, barefoot, giggling.
It’s not so terrible she tells me,
not like you think, all darkness
and silence. There are windchimes
and the smell of lemons, some days
it rains, but more often the air is dry
and sweet. I sit beneath the staircase
built from hair and bone and listen
to the voices of the living. I like it,
she says, shaking the dust from her hair,
especially when they fight, and when they sing.”
― Dorianne Laux

“Indeed I now think that the Indian and Chinese description of the afterlife, the system of the six lokas or realms of reality – the devas, asuras, humans, beasts, pretas, and inhabitants of hell – is in fact a metaphorical but precise description of this world and the inequalities that exist in it, with the devas sitting in luxury and judgment on the rest, the asuras fighting to keep the devas in their high position, the humans getting by as humans do, the beasts laboring as beasts do, the homeless preta suffering in fear at the edge of bell, and the inhabitants of hell enslaved to pure immiseration.

My feeling is that until the number of whole lives is greater than the number of shattered lives, we remain stuck in some kind of prehistory, unworthy of humanity's great spirit. History as a story worth telling will only begin when the whole lives outnumber the wasted ones. That means we have many generation s to go before history begins. All the inequalities must end; all the surplus wealth must be equitably distributed. Until then we are still only some kind of gibbering monkey, and humanity, as we usually like to think of it, does not yet exist.

To put it in religious terms, we are still indeed in the bardo, waiting to be born.”
― Kim Stanley Robinson, The Years of Rice and Salt

“She said that everything that disappeared from our side went over to theirs, where they kept living normal lives, waiting for the things still lingering with us to join them, and make the world whole once more.”
― Alexandra Kleeman, Intimations: Stories

“Spirits and ghosts are probably powerless creatures, you know. I know they’re supposed to be able to influence humans — to be able to read their minds, and so on. But they don’t have physical power over people, or objects; I don’t think they can even see them. And what happens when from the other side they try to reach people whose minds are insensitive, and who don’t react? Or who are too sensitive, so they overreact? I’m sure lines get crossed all the time: it must be easy for a ghost to get frustrated and lose interest. Besides, after a while, seeing into people’s minds must get quite boring and annoying. And aren’t ghosts supposed to be bundles of irritation and resentment? No, I dread dying all the more when I think of such an eternally painful existence. If anything, I envy people who can believe in nothingness after death.”
― Taeko Kōno, Toddler-Hunting & Other Stories

“We the living are to blame for the painfulness of being dead.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“The daughter of Sin was determined to go
To the dark house, dwelling of Erkalla's god,
To the house which those who enter cannot leave,
On the road where travelling is one-way only,
To the house where those who enter are deprived of light,
Where dust is their food, clay their bread.
They see no light, they dwell in darkness,
They are clothed like birds, with feathers.”
― Stephanie Dalley, Myths from Mesopotamia: Creation, the Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others

“এরাই তো তারা, যারা পরকালের বিনিময়ে পার্থিব জীবনকে কিনে নিয়েছে। তাই তাদের (পরকালের) শাস্তিটা মোটেই হালকা করা হবেনা এবং তাদেরকে কোনরকম সাহায্যও করা যাবেনা। (সূরা আল-বাকারা, ২ঃ৮৬)”
― Anonymous, القرآن الكريم

“এমতাবস্থায় তারা ঐ শাস্ত্রের অনুসরণ করল, যা সুলায়মানের রাজত্বকালে শয়তানরা আবৃত্তি করত। অথচ তা বিশ্বাসই করেননি সুলায়মান। বরং শয়তানরাই কুফরি করেছিল। তারা মানুষকে জাদুবিদ্যা এবং বাবেল শহরে হারুত ও মারুত দুই ফেরেশতার প্রতি যা অবতীর্ণ হয়েছিল, তা শিক্ষা দিত। তারা উভয়ই এ কথা না বলে কাউকে শিক্ষা দিত না যে, 'আমরা পরীক্ষার জন্য; কাজেই তুমি কাফের হয়ো না।' তবুও তারা তাদের কাছ থেকে এমন জাদু শিখত, যা দ্বারা স্বামী ও স্ত্রীর মাঝে বিচ্ছেদ ঘটাতে পারতো। তারা আল্লাহর আদেশ ছাড়া তা দ্বারা কারও অনিষ্ট করতে পারত না। তারা তাই শিখে যা তাদের ক্ষতি করে এবং কোনো উপকার করে না। তারা ভালরূপে জানে যে, যে ব্যাক্তি ওটাকে কিনে ছিল, তার জন্য পরকালে কোনো অংশ নেই। যার বিনিময়ে তারা আত্নবিক্রয় করেছে, তা খুবই জঘন্য। যদি এটা তারা বুঝতো।" (সূরা আল-বাকারা, ২:১০২)”
― Anonymous, القرآن الكريم

“Sometimes Waldemar loves me too much. He thinks it is better I stay with him on Earth, rather than be happy in the other place without him.”
― Ottessa Moshfegh, Homesick for Another World

“The Cliffs Of Consolation by Stewart Stafford

Don't fall meekly off Life's precipice,
With Death stamping on weak fingers,
Cling on, scream, fight the inevitable,
For gravity’s jury's karmic reprieve.

Souls crash in the surf beneath,
The perennial tide of plankton orbs,
In effervescent flows above the bluff,
Doves flying back when the flood's over.

If beyond salvation, down you plunge,
Assuage yourself with lifetime efforts,
All is pardoned, wiped clean in death,
A phoenix risen from bodily constraints.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“The Procession by Stewart Stafford

Let the lighthouse of past lives,
With all of the blinding pinnacles,
Guide us through death's brief mists.

Let the homing dirge of the piper,
Move us as sleep climbs upon us,
Spear of Selene cresting the horizon.

Let the dawn chorus sing in tribute,
To winter's carpeted, unspoiled dawn,
Setting forth with a crunching mission.

Let the cavalcade commence,
With all that are smiling and dearest,
Assembling within the celestial glare.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford