For death, Now I know, is that first breath Which our souls draw when we enter Life, which is of all life center

He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all this friends: Faithful friends! It lies I know Pale and white and cold as snow; And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!" Weeping at the feet and head. I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers; Yet I smile and whisper this: I am not the thing you kiss. Cease your tears and let it lie; It was mine--it is not I.

Sleep - Death without dying - living, but not life.

Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short , but when we have had our fill of fruit, our swelter of heat, we said that we have had our day.

Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor.

The idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else; it is a mainspring of human activity - designed largely to avoid the fatality of death, to overcome it by denying in some way that it is the final destiny of man.