Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!
A useless life is an early death.
You’ll forget it when you’re dead, and so will I. When I’m dead, I’m going to forget everything – and I advise you to do the same.
You’ll die and know all, or cease asking.[Умрешь и всё узнаешь, или перестанешь спрашивать.]
You start to die the moment you are born. The whole of life is cutting through the pack with death. So take it easy.
You have to die a few times before you can really live.
You can die for your country or your people or your family, but for a god you should live fully and busily, every day of a long life.
Yet death is terrible, though borne on angels’ wings.
Why should death make a man truthful, or even clever? The dead are likely dull fellows, full of tedious complaints—the ground’s too cold, my gravestone should be larger, why does he get more worms than I do…
Who wants flowers when you’re dead? Nobody.
While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.[Quando io crederò imparare a vivere, e io imparerò a morire.]
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.
