Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The death of what's dead is the birth of what's living.
Birth and death; we all move between these two unknowns.
We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by death; but an early grave may be the shortest way to heaven.
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.
The dead govern the living.
Death, like birth, is a secret of Nature.
We begin to die as soon as we are born, and the end is linked to the beginning.
We will all rise from the grave.