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.

I was born without knowing why, I have lived without knowing why, and I am dying without either knowing why or how.

There is no man so fortunate that there shall not be by him when he is dying some who are pleased with what is going to happen.

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

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

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

Death keeps no calendar.

You are dust, and to dust you shall return.

I’m doomed to die, right? Why should I care if I go to Hades either with gout in my leg or a runner’s grace? Plenty of people will carry me there.

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!

It is not my design to drink or sleep; my design is to make what haste I can to be gone.

Whoever has died is freed from sin.

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.