Death (n.) is afraid of it will never play the part of a live man.
Death (n.) is an escape hatch always at our disposal. 'I have made nothing easier than dying. There is always a way to not detain you against your will '.
Death (n.) is the wish of some, the relief of many, and the end of all.
Death (n.) is the wish of some, the relief of many, and the end of all. It sets the slave at liberty, carries the banished man home, and places all mortals on the same level, insomuch that life itself were a punishment without it.
Death (n.) is equal for everyone: the ways of getting there vary, but the destination is one, and no death is greater or lesser, since each puts an end to one's life.
Death (n.) is less terrible once life and death are seen to take turns: what is put together dissolves and what is dissolved is put together, by the eternal craft of a god.
Death (n.) alone is the even-handed law which governs the human race.
Death (n.) is abundantly available everywhere, so why sail to find it? It will fetch you from your bed — just make sure you are innocent when it does.
Death (n.) is the justice of nature: it makes no difference whether one stone or a whole mountain crushes me, whether I die alone or with nations — death amounts to the same thing everywhere.
Death (n.) asks of us something insignificant, however vast the apparatus it arrives with: an earache, a bad meal or a sore foot will do the same job as an earthquake.
Death (n.) is either trivial, so why fear it, or serious, so better to have it once and for all than hang over us forever.
Death (n.) is a tribute owed by mortals and the remedy for every suffering, so the person who dreads it is secretly longing for it.
Death (n.) can be made a friend by constant reflection, so that you go out to meet it if it allows.
Death (n.) is mastered by mastering the word: the task is simply not to be afraid of the word “death.”
Death (n.) summons everybody alike: fortune varies her allocations of everything else, and whether the gods are angry or well disposed we must die.
Death (n.) is a barrier our suffering cannot cross, returning us to the rest we had before we were born.
Death (n.) is not ahead of us; most of it has already happened — every year behind you is in death's hands.
Death (n.) would be worth dreading only if it could stay with you; but it either does not come, or comes and is gone.
Death (n.) does not summon us according to our rating on the censor's list.
Death (n.) finds everyone going out of life as if he had only just entered it — nothing finished, everything put off.