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Death is someone you see very clearly with eyes in the center of your heart: eyes that see not by reacting to light, but by reacting to a kind of a chill from within the marrow of your own life.

Dealing with death is there forever, really, you know, because we all have to face it.

Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.

Seeing death is not as difficult as you might think. What's harder is to see people suffer. It's the people the dead left behind that get to you.

To die is as if one's eyes had been put out and one cannot see anything any more. Perhaps it is like being shut in a cellar. One is abandoned by all. They have slammed the door and are gone. One does not see anything and notices only the damp smell of putrefaction.

Between my head and my hand, there is always the face of death.

Death is the ultimate enemy - and I find nothing reproachable in those who rage mightily against the dying of the light.

In medicine as well as in romantic poetry, it is the heart that is the center and controlling mechanics of life. If the heart stops, life stops. The loss of sight doesn't not mean death. Yet for ages, the eyes was believed to contain a human being's vital essence - a not wholly irrational belief.

I looked Death right in the face.

Death is not something any one of us want to dwell on, but we must all confront it at some point.