Death would not be called bad, O people, if one knew how to truly die.

Death would not be called bad, O people, if one knew how to truly die.

Death most resembles a prophet who is without honor in his own land or a poet who is a stranger read more

Death most resembles a prophet who is without honor in his own land or a poet who is a stranger among his people.

Madame, all stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that read more

Madame, all stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that from you.

Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.

Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.

So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts read more

So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.

How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.

How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.

One death is a tragedy; one million is a statistic.

One death is a tragedy; one million is a statistic.

We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.

We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft read more

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft like that of wool, or a young
woman, and may she protect thee from the depths of destruction.
Rise above him, O Earth, do not press painfully on him, give him
good things, give him consolation, as a mother covers her child
with her cloth, cover thou him.