To desire immortality for the individual is really the same as wanting to perpetuate an error forever.

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

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.

We and the dead ride quick at night. 

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 doubt that we have any right to pity the dead for their own sakes.

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!

The play is the tragedy “Man,” And its hero the conqueror worm.

A god cannot procure death for himself, even if he wished it, which, so numerous are the evils of life, has been granted to man as our chief good.

The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways—I to die, and you to live. Which is better, only the god knows.

In dealing with the dead, if we treat them as if they were entirely dead, that would show a want of affection and should not be done; or, if we treat them as if they were entirely alive, that would show a want of wisdom and should not be done.

Life is a farce, and should not end with a mourning scene.