-
O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray,
To come to me: of cureless ills thou art
The one physician. Pain lays not its touch
Upon a corpse.—AESCHYLUS
-
When we are dead we shan't thank for flowers,
We shan't hear the parson preaching for hours,
We shan't be sorry to be white bare bone
At last we shan't be hungry and can sleep alone.—AUDEN & ISHERWOOD, The Dog Beneath the Skin
-
Men fear death as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other.—BACON, Of Death
-
The valley of the shadow of death.—Bible, Psalms 23:4
-
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?—Bible, 1 Corinthians 15:55
-
The door of Death is made of gold,
That mortal eyes cannot behold.—BLAKE
-
Death has shaken out the sands of thy glass.—JOHN BRAINARD, Lament for Long Tom
-
Blow out, you bugles, over the rich dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.—RUPERT BROOKE, The Dead
-
The worst friend and enemy is but Death.—RUPERT BROOKE, Peace
-
Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat,
The mist in my face.—BROWNING, Prospice
-
So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.—BUNYAN, Pilgrim's Progress
-
The whole life of some people is a kind of partial death—a long, lingering death-bed, so to speak, of stagnation and nonentity on which death is but the seal, or solemn signing, as the abnegation of all further act and deed on the part of the signed.—SAMUEL BUTLER, Note Books
-
Death, the sable smoke where vanishes the flame.—BYRON, Childe Harold
-
Heaven gives its favourites—early death.—BYRON, Childe Harold
-
I die,—but first I have possess'd,
And come what may, I have been bless'd.—BYRON, The Giaour
-
"Whom the gods love die young," was said of yore.—BYRON, Don Juan
-
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep,
And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.—BYRON, Don Juan
-
He who fears death has already lost the life he covets.—CATO THE CENSOR
-
Saved from outrage worse than death.—COLERIDGE, Love
-
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed,
And bade it blossom there.—COLERIDGE, Epitaph on an Infant
-
Deep in my heart I thought with pride,
"I know a person who has died."—FRANCES CORNFORD, A Recollection
-
I shall ask leave to desist, when I am interrupted by so great an experiment as dying.—SIR WILLIAM D'AVENANT
-
Afraid? Of whom am I afraid?
Not death; for who is he?
The porter of my father's lodge
As much abasheth me.—EMILY DICKINSON, Time and Eternity
-
That short, potential stir
That each can make but once,
That bustle so illustrious
'Tis almost consequence,
Is the eclat of death.—EMILY DICKINSON, Time and Eternity
-
One short sleep past, we wake eternally;
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.—JOHN DONNE, Death
-
So softly death succeeded life in her,
She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.—DRYDEN, Eleonora
-
Death in itself is nothing; but we fear
To be we know not what, we know not where.—DRYDEN, Aurengzebe
-
I, who exulted in sunshine and laughter,
Dreamed not of dying—death is such waste of me!—GALS WORTHY, Valley of the Shadow
-
What is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?—KAHLIL GIBRAN, The Prophet
-
Death is never at a loss for occasions.—Greek Anthology
-
Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave.—BISHOP HALL, Epistles
-
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower.
Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour!—REGINALD HEBER, At a Funeral
-
Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath,
And stars to set;—but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own,
O Death!—MRS. HEMANS, The Hour of Death
-
The ways of Death are soothing and serene,
And all the words of Death are grave and sweet.—W. E. HENLEY, In Memoriam R.G.C.B.
-
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme.—KEATS, Ode to a Nightingale
-
When Earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colours have faded, and the youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it—lie down for an aeon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall put us to work anew.—KIPLING, When Earth's Last Picture is Painted
-
Wheresoever ye be, death will overtake you, although ye be in lofty towers.—The Koran
-
Gone before
To that unknown and silent shore.—CHARLES LAMB, Hester
-
Our birth may be "a sleep and a forgetting," but not our death. Death releases us from the barrier of the flesh, introduces us to the glorious company of those who have gone before and opens out a majestic vista of love and service.—SIR OLIVER LODGE, Demonstrated Survival
-
Death is not a foe, but an inevitable adventure.—SIR OLIVER LODGE
-
There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.—LONGFELLOW, Resignation
-
The long mysterious Exodus of death.—LONGFELLOW, The Jewish Cemetery at Newport
-
This goin' ware glory waits ye haint one agreeable feetur.—LOWELL, The Biglow Papers
-
Around, around the sun we go:
The moon goes round the earth.
We do not die of death:
We die of vertigo.—ARCHIBALD MACLEISH, Mother Goose's Garland
-
A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.—THOMAS MANN, The Magic Mountain
-
The only religious way to think of death is as part and parcel of life; to regard it, with the understanding and the emotions, as the inviolable condition of life.—THOMAS MANN, The Magic Mountain
-
Death, like generation, is a secret of Nature.—MARCUS AURELIUS, Meditations
-
Think not disdainfully of death, but look on it with favour; for even death is one of the things that Nature wills.—MARCUS AURELIUS, Meditations
-
Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo's laurel bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man.—CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE, Faustus
-
And may we find, when ended is the page,
Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.—JOHN MASEFIELD, The Word
-
Death hath a thousand doors to let out life.—MASSINGER, A Very Woman
-
Death . . . on his pale horse.—MILTON, Paradise Lost
-
Death's but one more tomorrow.—SILAS W. MITCHELL, Of One Who Seemed to Have Failed
-
So we must part, my body, you and I
Who've spent so many pleasant years together.
'Tis sorry work to lose your company
Who clove to me so close.—COSMO MONKHOUSE, Any Soul to Any Body
-
Death is in such strange contradiction to life that it is no matter for wonder that we recoil from it, and turn to remembrances, and find recompense in perceiving that those we have loved live in our memories as intensely as if they were still before our eyes.—GEORGE MOORE, Ave
-
In dying I would offer men the richest of my gifts. It was from the sun I learned that, from the sun which when it sets is so rich; out of its inexhaustible riches it flings gold into the sea, so that the poorest fishermen row with golden oars.—NIETZSCHE
-
Death is nothing. It is only the divine will to remove us from this world of suffering and none can slip either to right or left.—NOGUCHI, Eckstein: Noguchi
-
It makes death more real and imminent to see one's near relations grown old; for brothers and sisters are, as a general rule, only real to us when they are children.—LIAM O'FLAHERTY, Two Years
-
Life's race well run,
Life's work well done,
Life's victory won,
Now cometh rest.—E. H. PARKER, Funeral Ode on James A. Garfield
-
A dead man cannot bite.—PLUTARCH, Lives
-
As Caesar was at supper the discourse was of death,—which sort was the best. "That," said he, "which is unexpected."—PLUTARCH, Lives
-
If death be terrible, the fault is not in death, but thee.—Proverb
-
I know of nobody that has a mind to die this year.—Proverb
-
Dying is as natural as living.—Proverb
-
Old men go to death; but death comes to young men.—Proverb
-
When you die, your trumpeter will be buried.—Proverb
-
He that died half a year ago is as dead as Adam.—Proverb
-
He hath liv'd ill that knows not how to die well.—Proverb
-
As dead as a door nail.—Proverb
-
Death and the grave make no distinction of persons.—Proverb
-
Death's day is doom's day.—Proverb
-
I am going to leap into the dark. Let down the curtain. The farce
is over.—RABELAIS, Ow His Deathbed
-
Is it so great an ill merely to cease to live?—RACINE, Phedre
-
I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead.—He is just away!—JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, Away
-
Death sends a radiogram every day. When I want you I'll drop in—and then one day he comes with a masterkey and lets himself in and says: We'll go now.—CARL SANDBURG, Death Snips Proud Men
-
Death seems to provide the minds of the Anglo-Saxon race with a greater fund of innocent amusement than any other single subject.—DOROTHY L. SAYERS, Preface: The Third Omnibus of Crime
-
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.—SCOTT, The Lady of the Lake
-
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air.—ALAN SEEGER, I Have a Rendezvous With Death
-
They'll give him death by inches.—SHAKESPEARE, Coriolanus
-
To die,—to sleep,—
No more, and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,—'t is a consummation
Devoutly to be wished.—SHAKESPEARE, Hamlet
-
Dead, for a ducat, dead!—SHAKESPEARE, Hamlet
-
All that live must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.—SHAKESPEARE, Hamlet
-
This fell sergeant, death,
Is strict in his arrest.—SHAKESPEARE, Hamlet
-
The end of life cancels all bands.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry IV
-
A man can die but once.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry IV
-
Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair?—SHAKESPEARE, Henry IV
-
How many of mine old acquaintances are dead!—SHAKESPEARE, Henry IV
-
He dies, and makes no sign.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry VI
-
Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry VI
-
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.—SHAKESPEARE, Julius Caesar
-
O, amiable lovely death!—SHAKESPEARE, King John
-
There is no sure foundation set on blood,
No certain life achiev'd by others' death.—SHAKESPEARE, King John
-
Vex not his ghost: O! let him pass! he hates him
That would upon the rack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.—SHAKESPEARE, King Lear
-
Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death
To throw away the dearest thing he owed,
As 'twere a careless trifle.—SHAKESPEARE, Macbeth
-
Death's a great disguiser.—SHAKESPEARE, Measure for Measure
-
The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.—SHAKESPEARE, Measure for Measure
-
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod: and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world.—SHAKESPEARE, Measure for Measure
-
The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.—SHAKESPEARE, Measure for Measure
-
Speak me fair in death.—SHAKESPEARE, The Merchant of Venice
-
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!—SHAKESPEARE, Othello
-
The tongues of dying men
Enforce attention like deep harmony.—SHAKESPEARE, Richard II
-
And nothing can we call our own but death;
And that small model of the barren earth,
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of kings:—
How some have been depos'd; some slain in war;
Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd;
Some poisoned by their wives; some sleeping kill'd;
All murdered.—SHAKESPEARE, Richard II
-
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom.—SHAKESPEARE, Richard III
-
He that dies pays all debts.—SHAKESPEARE, The Tempest
-
I would fain die a dry death.—SHAKESPEARE, The Tempest
-
Out of the jaws of death.—SHAKESPEARE, Twelfth Night
-
He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight
Can touch him not and torture not again;
From the contagion of the world's slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown gray in vain.—SHELLEY, Adonais
-
How wonderful is Death,
Death and his brother Sleep.—SHELLEY, Queen Mab
-
Death is the veil which those who live call life;
They sleep, and it is lifted.—SHELLEY, Prometheus Unbound
-
Death's a debt; his mandamus binds all alike—no bail, no demurrer.—SHERIDAN, St. Patrick's Day
-
Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.—JAMES SHIRLEY, Cupid & Death
-
Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.—ALEXANDER SMITH, Dreamthorp
-
Death is not the worst; rather, in vain
To wish for death, and not to compass it.—SOPHOCLES, Ajax
-
Come not in terrors clad, to claim
An unresisting prey.—CAROLINE SOUTHEY, To Death
-
Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease,
And layes the soul to sleepe in quiet grave?
Sleepe after toile, port after stormie seas,
Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please.—EDMUND SPENSER, The Faerie Queene
-
Death slue not him, but he made death his ladder to the skies.—EDMUND SPENSER, An Epitaph upon Sir Philip Sidney
-
Give me to die unwitting of the day,
And stricken in Life's brave heat, with senses clear!—E. C. STEDMAN, Mors Benefica
-
Death's no punishment: it is the sense,
The pains and fears afore, that makes a death.—SIR JOHN SUCKLING, Aglaura
-
For there is no God found stronger than death; and death is a sleep.—SWINBURNE, Hymn to Proserpine
-
At the door of life, by the gate of breath,
There are worse things waiting for men than death.—SWINBURNE, The Triumph of Time
-
For life is sweet, but after life is death,
This is the end of every man's desire.—SWINBURNE, A Ballad of Burdens
-
God's fingers touch'd him, and he slept.—TENNYSON, In Memoriam
-
No life that breathes with human breath
Has ever truly longed for death.—TENNYSON, The Two Voices
-
Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.—TENNYSON, Becket
-
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea.—TENNYSON, Crossing the Bar
-
Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.—JAMES THOMSON, The Seasons
-
There is no kind of death to kill
The sands that lie so meek and still .. .
But Man is great and strong and wise—
And so he dies.—LOUIS UNTERMEYER, Irony
-
Here's Death, twitching my ear:
"Live," says he, "for I'm coming."—VERGIL, Minor Poems
-
We cease to grieve, cease to be fortune's slaves,
Yes, cease to die, by dying.—JOHN WEBSTER, The White Devil
-
I know death hath ten thousand several doors
For men to take their exit.—JOHN WEBSTER, Duchess of Malfi
-
Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later, delicate death.—WALT WHITMAN, When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd
-
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.—WALT WHITMAN, Song of Myself
-
Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.—WALT WHITMAN, Starting from Paurnanok
-
Happy is he who heareth
The signal of his release
In the bells of the Holy City,
The chimes of eternal peace!—WHITTIER, The Red River Voyageur
-
How fast has brother followed brother,
From sunshine to the sunless land!—WORDSWORTH, Upon the Death of James Hogg
