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Death and vulgarity are the only two facts in the nineteenth century that one cannot explain away.
I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Tradition demands that we not speak poorly of the dead.
Fling but a stone, the giant dies.
I do not agree with what you have to say, but I’ll defend to the death your right to say it.
If physical death is the price that I must pay to free my white brothers and sisters from a permanent death of the spirit, then nothing can be more redemptive.
Intellectual growth should commence at birth and cease only at death.
The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.
Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.