To die is but to leave off dying and do the thing once for all

Pale death knocks with impartial foot at poor men's hovels and king's palaces

If my survival caused another to perish, then death would be sweeter and more beloved

He who would teach men to die would at the same time teach them to live

We look at death through the cheap-glazed windows of the flesh, and believe him the monster which the flawed and cracked glass represents him

Everybody has got to die, but I always believed an exception would be made in my case. Now what?

I win or I die

No young man believes he shall ever die

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain My friend, I'll say it clear I'll state my case of which I'm certain I've lived a life that's full I've traveled each and every highway But more, much more than this I did it my way

If sorrow would not talk it would die