The only evidence, so far as I know, about another life is, first, that we have no evidence; and, secondly, that we are rather sorry that we have not, and wish we had.

Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved.

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

Whoever has died is freed from sin.

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

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

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.

Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.