I don’t believe in an afterlife, although I am bringing a change of underwear.

Death and vulgarity are the only two facts in the nineteenth century that one cannot explain away.

Man has here two and a half minutes—one to smile, one to sigh, and half a one to love; for in the midst of this minute he dies.

Under the wide and starry sky, / Dig the grave and let me lie.

The life of the dead consists in the recollection cherished of them by the living.

Is this dying? Is this all? Is this all that I feared when I prayed against a hard death? Oh, I can bear this! I can bear it!

Can we not live without pleasure, who cannot but with pleasure die?

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

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

Anyone who’s never watched somebody die is suffering from a pretty bad case of virginity.

You are dust, and to dust you shall return.

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.

Death keeps no calendar.