People living deeply have no fear of death.
When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming.
We are dying from overthinking. We are slowly killing ourselves by thinking about everything. Think. Think. Think. You can never trust the human mind anyway. It's a death trap.
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
He not busy being born is busy dying.
As men, we are all equal in the presence of death.
Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.
Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.
So smoking is the perfect way to commit suicide without actually dying. I smoke because it's bad, it's really simple.
If I were dying, my last words would be: Have faith and pursue the unknown end.
To awake from death is to die in peace.
Being over seventy is like being engaged in a war. All our friends are going or gone and we survive amongst the dead and the dying as on a battlefield.
It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time.
I will be conquered; I will not capitulate.
Land and sea, weakness and decline are great separators, but death is the great divorcer for ever.
He had a massive stroke. He died with his tie on. Do you think that could be our generation's equivalent of that old saying about dying with your boots on?
Dying is something we human beings do continuously, not just at the end of our physical lives on this earth.
Shakespeare is one of the last books one should like to give up, perhaps the one just before the Dying Service in a large Prayer book.
The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.
The cemetery of the victims of human cruelty in our century is extended to include yet another vast cemetery, that of the unborn.
If once a man indulges himself in murder, very soon he comes to think little of robbing; and from robbing he comes next to drinking and Sabbath-breaking, and from that to incivility and procrastination.
There are many things worth living for, a few things worth dying for, and nothing worth killing for.
Neither the sun nor death can be looked at with a steady eye.
Assassination is the extreme form of censorship.
I want to be all used up when I die.
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