A little smoke lost in the air, that was the life of a man.

As if the dead really do persist, even in a bottle of wine.

We are only an instant, that's true. But we are eternal.

After I’m dead, I want to ghostwrite my autobiography.

Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.

I'm going to die whatever you do, but I'm not afraid.

Life is here, death is over there. I am here, not over there.

La tristesse durera toujours.[The sadness will last forever.]

Cine n-ar dori să moară visând că moare?

Often the test of courage becomes rather to live than to die.

Every morning is my birthday and every night is my death-day.

Losing you're co-remember meant losing the memory itself.

Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.

It is when we are faced with death that we turn most bookish.

How do you mourn something that never really belonged to you?