Rot Quotes

“i even tried to bury myself alive
but the dirt recoiled
you have already rotted it said
there is nothing left for me to do”
― Rupi Kaur, The sun and her flowers

“Baltimore is warm but pleasant... I belong here, where everything is civilized and gay and rotted and polite.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“What actually happens when you die is that your brain stops working and your body rots, like Rabbit did when he died and we buried him in the earth at the bottom of the garden. And all his molecules were broken down into other molecules and they went into the earth and were eaten by worms and went into the plants and if we go dig in the same place in 10 years there will be nothing except his skeleton left. And in 1,000 years even his skeleton will be gone. But that is all right because he is part of the flowers and the apple tree and the hawthorn bush now.
When people die they are sometimes put into coffins which means that they don't mix with the earth for a very long time until the wood of the coffin rots.
But Mother was cremated. This means that she was put into a coffin and burnt and ground up and turned into ash and smoke. I do not know what happens to the ash and I couldn't ask at the crematorium because I didn't go to the funeral. But the smoke goes out of the chimney and into the air and sometimes I look up into the sky and I think that there are molecules of Mother up there, or in clouds over Africa or the Antartic, or coming down as rain in rainforests in Brazil, or in snow somewhere.”
― Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

“Every beautiful facade seemed to conceal rot and ruin that I could almost see.”
― Dean Koontz, Odd Apocalypse

“I'm full of poetry now. Rot and poetry. Rotten poetry.”
― Ernest Hemingway

“Saturated Arrogance

...imprisoned muses
cried to be free
she took away their quills
and said
do not bother me...”
― Muse, Enigmatic Evolution

“Guilt and fear are a kind of rot. It spreads unless it's cleaned. And there's only one way to do that.”
― Lee Goldberg, Mr. Monk on the Couch

“The more you keep your door closed, the more you will rot! Open your door! Let different ideas, different beliefs, different cultures and different attitudes flow into your mind. Anything different will help you to enlarge your little world! By opening your door, you invite the whole universe to your tiny house! Enlarge your house and enrich yourself! As long as your door remains closed, you shall continue rotting in your poor world!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“If rainbows could rot then so could stars.”
― Ann Fraistat, What We Harvest

“Saturated Arrogance

...she rebuked those about her
in darkness did she dwell
a pathetic history
all mortal man would tell..”
― Muse, Enigmatic Evolution

“She give me honey to make my voice sweet, but there never were a sweetness in me. I prefer a taste of rot.”
― Susann Cokal, The Kingdom of Little Wounds

“I took a bite of a Bloody Ploughman. Even the flesh was red.
'Bloody,' Carral said.
'Nice colour,' I answered.
'It looks sinful. I bet that was the apple Eve ate, you know, in the Bible, the forbidden fruit.'
'Might be. But I've eaten some too now. Does that mean you have to kick me out of your house?'
I held the half-eaten apple out to her. She burst out laughing and pointed out at the factory: 'Does this look like paradise or what?”
― Jenny Hval, Perlebryggeriet

“That's the nature of any kind of rot. If you don't stop it, it keeps going. It will keep going until it destroys the very organism that feeds it.”
― F. H. Batacan

“Clever nations are the ones who keep changing their governments! Because power must change hands otherwise it will get spoiled and rot!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Throwing away
Compassion
Care
And kindness
We slowly seep
Into rotting sewers”
― Hanna Abi Akl, Diary in Poems

“Strawberries sat abandoned in the fields by season's end, so ripe as to be barely solid, warm as heart's blood. Ambrosia, they call that variety, the food of gods. But the hubris of excess has mortal consequences. You can go blind, mad, drown in red. The second nature of strawberries is a sugar that turns to rot.
They reappeared one by one as I vomited, shapeless and no longer sweet, those little, used, red hearts.”
― C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

“..two forces kill old trees: the rot within that is caused by many diseases; and then of course, there are the storms and forest fires. There are plenty of diseases that create rot [in the church]: the hollowing out of Bible doctrine, the strife between members, and the lack of urgency. And failure to feel the weight of the momentous task we have been given. All of this is evidenced by the casualness of many Christians; their stinginess in giving; and their lack of vision beyond themselves. Add to that our self-righteousness and lack of transparency, and no wonder we are not having the impact we should. Then there is the unwillingness of churches to discipline members who have drifted from the faith and live in open rebellion.”
― Erwin W. Lutzer

“THE IVY GREEN

Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green,
That creepeth o’er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, In his cell so lone and cold.
The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed,
To pleasure his dainty whim;
And the mouldering dust that years have made,
Is a merry meal for him.
       Creeping where no life is seen,
       A rare old plant is the Ivy green.  

Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings,
And a staunch old heart has he.
How closely he twineth, how tight he clings
To his friend the huge Oak Tree!
And slily he traileth along the ground,
And his leaves he gently waves,
As he joyously hugs and crawleth round
The rich mould of dead men’s graves.
      Creeping where grim death has been,
     A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

Whole ages have fled and their works decayed,
And nations have scattered been;
But the stout old Ivy shall never fade,
From its hale and hearty green.
The brave old plant in its lonely days,
Shall fatten upon the past;
For the stateliest building man can raise,
Is the Ivy’s food at last.
Creeping on where time has been,
       A rare old plant is the Ivy green.”
― Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers

“The Folk do not rot the way mortals do. Sometimes their bodies grow over with lichen or bloom with mushrooms. I've heard stories about battlefields turning in to green hills.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“There is a horrible rot in the Denver Police Department.”
― Steven Magee

“Does time really exist, time the destroyer?
When will it break down the castle into mere fragments?
When will this heart which has always been in the service of the gods
Be governed by the Creator, the Demiurge?

Are we really so desperately fragile
As Fate would wish to make us?
Is childhood, which is so deep, so full of promise,
Later stilled at its root?

Oh, the spectre of perishability,
How it infiltrates and passes through the innocently receptive,
As if it were smoke!

And we, we who are drifting,
We still rank as a divine rite
Amongst those lasting Powers.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus

“You will rot in any place you feel you do not belong to!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“I pray for sufficient wisdom to understand that wisdom apart from God is the stuff of opinion tainted by the rot of bias. And if I am somehow apt to confuse such rubbish with wisdom, I will think myself wise but find myself living in a landfill.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“​More than GM Foods I am afraid of GMM People. Genetically and Mentally Mutated People. The Entire Ecosystem Mutates.”
― Vineet Raj Kapoor

“Home is where the brain rots.”
― Christian Y. Schmidt

“I would not buy a second hand home in Florida.”
― Steven Magee

“It's a systemic rot, the good police officers cover-up for the bad police officers.”
― Steven Magee

“The systemic rot is so severe in the police that the government should replace it with something that actually works for the masses and call it ‘Citizens Assistance’ with the focus being on excellent customer service that is quality controlled!”
― Steven Magee

“There is so much rot in police internal affairs!”
― Steven Magee

“Where the trees thicken into a wood, the fragrance of the wet earth and rotting leaves kicked up by the horses' hoofs fills my soul with delight. I particularly love that smell, — it brings before me the entire benevolence of Nature, for ever working death and decay, so piteous in themselves, into the means of fresh life and glory, and sending up sweet odours as she works.”
― Elizabeth von Arnim, Elizabeth and Her German Garden