Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
Those who welcome death have only tried it from the ears up.
To you who have never died, may I say: Welcome to the world!
The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
And all winds go sighing For sweet things dying.
One approaches the journey's end. But the end is a goal, not a catastrophe.
Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short, but when we have had our swing of pleasure, our fill of fruit, and our swelter of heat, we say we have had our day.
For those who live neither with religious consolations about death nor with a sense of death (or of anything else) as natural, death is the obscene mystery, the ultimate affront, the thing that cannot be controlled. It can only be denied.
A fiction about soft or easy deaths is part of the mythology of most diseases that are not considered shameful or demeaning.
We should be considerate to the living; to the dead we owe only the truth.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
To neglect at any time preparation for death is to sleep on our post at a siege; to omit it in old age is to sleep at an attack.
If you live to be one hundred, you've got it made. Very few people die past that age.
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.
I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying.
No one, at night, really believes he'll live forever.
Dying is one of the few things that can be done as easily lying down.
Cursed is the man who dies, but the evil done by him survives.
When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!
The best place a person can die, is where they die for others.
The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.
You must not fear death, my lads; defy him, and you drive him into the enemy's ranks.
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
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