When a man dies, and his kin are glad of it, they say, “He is better off.”

You are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Epitaph, n. An inscription on a tomb, showing that virtues acquired by death have a retroactive effect.

Death keeps no calendar.

If a man will observe as he walks the streets, I believe he will find the merriest countenances in mourning coaches.

Whoever has died is freed from sin.

I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap in the dark.

It is noble to die before doing anything that deserves death.

There never is absolute birth nor complete death, in the strict sense, consisting in the separation of the soul from the body. What we call births are developments and growths, while what we call deaths are envelopments and diminutions.

I think it makes small difference to the dead if they are buried in the tokens of luxury. All this is an empty glorification left for those who live.

What is death? A scary mask. Take it off—see, it doesn’t bite.

A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest.

Nobody, sir, dies willingly.