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There is a Reaper whose name is Death,
  And with his sickle keen,
    He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
      And the flowers that grow between.
      - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
        Reaper and the Flowers

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
  This life of mortal breath
    Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
      Whose portal we call Death.
      - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Resignation

There is no flock, however watched and tended,
  But one dead lamb is there!
    There is no fireside howso'er defended,
      But has one vacant chair.
      - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Resignation

Oh, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death,
  Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee,
    That thou shouldst die before thou hadst grown old!
      - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
        Three Friends of Mine (pt. II)

Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom,
  A shadow on those features fair and thin;
    And softly, from the hushed and darkened room,
      Two angels issued, where but one went in.
      - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Two Angels
         (st. 9)

I imagined it was more difficult to die.
  [Fr., J'avais cru plus difficule de mourir.]
      - Louis XIV ("Le Grand"),
        said to Madame de Maintenon

Life is the jailer, death the angel sent to draw the unwilling bolts and set us free.
      - James Russell Lowell

The realm of death seems an enemy's country to most men, on whose shores they are loathly driven by stress of weather; to the wise man it is the desired port where he moors his bark gladly, as in some quiet haven of the Fortunate Isles; it is the golden west into which his sun sinks, and, sinking, casts back a glory upon the leaden cloud-tack which had darkly besieged his day.
      - James Russell Lowell

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.
      - James Russell Lowell

But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet
  Lessen like sound of friends' departing feet;
    And Death is beautiful as feet of friend
      Coming with welcome at our journey's end.
      - James Russell Lowell,
        An Epistle to George William Curtis

The gods conceal from those destined to live how sweet it is to die, that they may continue living.
  [Lat., Victorosque dei celant, ut vivere durent felix esse mori.]
      - Lucanus (Marcus Annaeus Lucan), Pharsalia
         (IV, 519)

The coward and the courageous alike must die.
  [Lat., Pavido fortique cadendum est.]
      - Lucanus (Marcus Annaeus Lucan), Pharsalia
         (IX, 582)

Death is free from the restraint of Fortune; the earth takes everything which it has brought forth.
  [Lat., Libera Fortunae mors est; capit omnia tellus
    Quae genuit.]
      - Lucanus (Marcus Annaeus Lucan), Pharsalia
         (VII, 818)

From the very jaws of death I have escaped to this condition.
  [Lat., E mediis Orci faucibus ad hunc evasi modum.]
      - Lucretius (Titus Lucretius Carus),
        App. Met. (VII, p. 191)

Nay, the greatest wits and poets, too, cease to live;
  Homer, their prince, sleeps now in the same forgotten sleep as do the others.
    [Lat., Adde repertores doctrinarum atque leporum;
      Adde Heliconiadum comites; quorum unus Homerus
        Sceptra potitus, eadem aliis sopitu quiete est.]
      - Lucretius (Titus Lucretius Carus),
        De Rerum Natura (III, 1,049)

At the last, when we die, we have the dear angels for our escort on the way. They who can grasp the whole world in their hands can surely also guard our souls, that they make that last journey safely.
      - Martin Luther

Though in midst of life we be
  Snares of death surround us.
      - Martin Luther

What is our death but a night's sleep? For as through sleepy all weariness and faintness pass away and cease, and the powers of the spirit come back again, so that in the morning we arise fresh and strong and joyous; so at the Last Day we shall rise again as if we had only slept a night, and shall be fresh and strong.
      - Martin Luther

There's nothing certain in man's life but this:
  That he must lose it.
      - Lord Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton, 1st Earl of Lytton ("Owen Meredith"),
        Clytemnestra (pt. XX)

To every man upon this earth
  Death cometh soon or late,
    And how can man die better
      Than facing fearful odds,
        For the ashes of his fathers
          And the temples of his gods?
      - Thomas Babington Macaulay,
        Lays of Ancient Rome--Horatius (XXVII)

The world is full of resurrections. Every night that folds us up in darkness is a death; and those of you that have been out early, and have seen the first of the dawn, will know it--the day rises out of the night like a being that has burst its tomb and escaped into life.
      - George MacDonald

There is no such thing as death.
  In nature nothing dies.
    From each sad remnant of decay
      Some forms of life arise.
      - Charles Mackay,
        There is No Such Thing as Death

"God giveth His beloved sleep;" and in that peaceful sleep, realities, not dreams, come round their quiet rest, and fill their conscious spirits and their happy hearts with blessedness and fellowship. In His own time He will make the eternal morning dawn, and the hand that kept them in their slumbers shall touch them into waking, and shall clothe them when they arise according to the body of His own glory; and they, looking into His face, and flashing back its love, its light, its beauty, shall each break forth into singing as the rising light of that unsetting day touches their transfigured and immortal heads, in the triumphant thanksgiving, "I am satisfied, for I awake in Thy likeness."
      - Alexander Maclaren

I do not know why a man should be either regretful or afraid, as he watches the hungry sea eating away this "bank and shoal of time" upon which he stands, even though the tide has all but reached his feet--if he knows that God's strong hand will be stretched forth to him at the moment when the sand dissolves from under him, and will draw him out of many waters, and place him high above the floods on the stable land where there is "no more sea."
      - Alexander Maclaren

If life has not made you by God's grace, through faith, holy--think you, will death without faith do it? The cold waters of that narrow stream are no purifying bath in which you may wash and be clean. No! no! as you go down into them, you will come up from them.
      - Alexander Maclaren

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