Death (n.) is likely dead even before the body: so they need fear nothing further.
Death (n.) is not the end. On the contrary, personal death is a transfiguration of life, and not a transition to inert, lifeless matter.
Death (n.) is not the opposite of life. The living being is only a species of the dead, and a very rare species.
Death (n.) is only a death that is not free under despised conditions, a death at the wrong time. Out of love for life one ought to want death differently, free, conscious, without surprise.
Death (n.) is a thing after which men are understood worse than men of the moment, but they are heard better.
Death's (n.) prospect could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity, but instead we see it as an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.
Death (n.) is understood in the Homerics as a reversal of Silenus's famous dictum; while Silenus would say it is the very worst thing to be born at all, the Homerics has it that it is the very worst thing is to die soon, the second worst is to die at all.
Death (n.) is best when it is an affirmation of life — Out of the very love one bears to life one should wish death to be free, deliberate, and a matter neither of chance or of surprise.
Death (n.) for Homeric man, reversed Silenus: the very worst thing was to die soon, the second worst to die at all.
Death (n.) the great descend to their grave with an ironic smile: for what was there left of them to bury? Only the dross they had long despised.
Death (n.) for the knower: towards the light — your last motion; a joyful shout of knowledge — your last sound.
Death (n.) a man's death becomes incomprehensible only long afterwards; at first the honest feel little lost and the funeral orator seems a hypocrite — only need teaches us he was necessary, and his true epitaph is a late sigh.
Death (n.) is the greatest banality among men, then birth, then marriage — worn-out little tragi-comedies that still hold the audience only because the actors are always new.
Death (n.) certain prospect could put a precious, sweet-smelling drop of levity into every life — and the apothecary souls have made it a drop of poison that makes all life repulsive.
Death (n.) is the sole certainty common to all, yet it makes almost no impression: life is like the last moment before an emigrants' ship departs, everyone shouting to be first in a future where only silence is certain.
Death (n.) die at the right time — but how could the one who never lives at the right time ever die at the right time?
Death (n.) is always a mere prejudice among gods.
Death (n.) a stupid physiological fact, must be converted into a moral necessity: so live that one can also will to die at the right time.