As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death.

O sleepers! what a thing is slumber! Sleep resembles death. Ah, why then dost thou not work in such wise as that after death thou mayst retain a resemblance to perfect life, when, during life, thou art in sleep so like to the hapless dead?

Our life is made by the death of others.

Every loss which we incur leaves behind it vexation in the memory, save the greatest loss of all, that is, death, which annihilates the memory, together with life.

Let us beware of saying that death is the opposite of life. The living being is only a species of the dead, and a very rare species.

Death is close enough at hand so we do not need to be afraid of life.