Our birth is nothing but our death begun.
The man who consecrates his hours by vigorous effort, and an honest aim, at once he draws the sting of life and Death; he walks with nature; and her paths are peace.
All men think that all men are mortal but themselves.
Virtue alone has majesty in death.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
A death-bed's a detector of the heart.
Death! great proprietor of all! 'tis thine To tread out empire, and to quench the stars.
Who can take Death's portrait? The tyrant never sat.