Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well

Die? I should say not, dear fellow. No Barrymore would allow such a conventional thing to happen to him

All men think all men mortal, but themselves

The fear of death is more to be dreaded then fear itself

No man knows when his hour will come; As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them

Done to death by slanderous tongues

Death, like birth, is a secret of Nature

Death keeps no calendar

To achieve great things we must live as though we were never going to die

Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life