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Every man dies. Not every man really lives.

For tis not in mere death that men die most.

All men die. You may say: 'Is that encouraging?' Surely yes, for when a man dies, his blunders, which are of the form, all die with him, but the things in him that are part of the life never die, although the form be broken.

Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.

The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.

There's place and means for every man alive.

It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time.

It is the lot of man but once to die.

Every man must do two things alone; he must do his own believing and his own dying.