I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.
I have a great fear of death! I’d rather do almost anything else than die![Also known as:]I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.
How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?
Get busy living or get busy dying.
Forward, my brave fellows, forward! Carry me into the fort. If I am to die, I want to die at the head of the column!
Everybody going to be dead one day, just give them time.
Every mundanity of life grows infinitely more precious in the face of impending death.
Death, the commencement of joys eternal, is only the end of earthly cares.[La mort, commencement des choses éternelles, n’est que la fin des soucis terrestres.]
Death is the end of life; ah, why should life all labour be?
As a day well spent procures a happy sleep, so a life well employed procures a happy death.[Sì come una giornata bene spesa dà lieto dormire, così una vita bene usata dà lieto morire.]
All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity.
Ah, if he could only die temporarily!
