How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?
They are not dead who live in the hearts they leave behind.
Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.
When those you love die, the best you can do is honor their spirit for as long as you live.
Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.
Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us; our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.
It's better to burn out than to fade away.
Neither fire nor wind, birth nor death can erase our good deeds.
They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.
The dead can survive as part of the lives of those that still live.
When it’s time to die, let us not discover that we have never lived.
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
Death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back.
I discovered to my joy, that it is life, not death, that has no limits.
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.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Because life is fragile and death inevitable, we must make the most of each day.
Death never takes the wise man by surprise; he is always ready to go.
The people we most love do become a physical part of us, ingrained in our synapses, in the pathways where memories are created.
What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.