Quotes
Quotes about Death
When all the blandishments of life are gone, The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on.
When the adulation of life is gone, the coward sneaks to his death, but the brave live on.
It is better to be killed than frightened to death.
And who are the greater criminals--those who sell the instruments of death, or those who buy them and use them?
And you, enchantment, Worthy enough a herdsman--yea, him too, That makes himself, but for our honor therein, Unworthy thee-if ever henceforth thou These rural latches to his entrance open, Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, I will devise a death as cruel for thee As thou art tender to't.
This dance of death which sounds so musically Was sure intended for the corpse de ballet.
Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, Making it momentany as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.
Mors sceptra ligonibus aequat. (Death levels sceptre and the law.)
Death's pale flag advanced in his cheeks.
Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.
The white sail of his soul has rounded The promontory--death.
Her cabin'd ample spirit, It fluttered and fail'd for breath; Tonight it doth inherit The vasty hall of death.
Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.
Men fear Death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other.
Death is the universal salt of states; Blood is the base of all things--law and war.
The death-change comes. Death is another life. We bow our heads At going out, we think, and enter straight Another golden chamber of the king's Larger than this we leave, and lovelier. And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect, The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves. The will of God is all in all. He makes, Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all.
Death hath so many doors to let out life.
Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.
To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at the proper time, with a clear head and with joyfulness, consummated in the midst of children and witnesses: so that an actual leave-taking is possible while he who is leaving is still there.
If man were immortal he could be perfectly sure of seeing the day when everything in which he had trusted should betray his trust, and, in short, of coming eventually to hopeless misery. He would break down, at last, as every good fortune, as every dynasty, as every civilization does. In place of this we have death.
There are so many little dyings that it doesn't matter which of them is death.
For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.
We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.
We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.
