Nelson Mandela Quotes

Death is the most blessed dream.

Death is the quiet haven of us all.

How wonderful is death! Death and his brother sleep.

Part of the American dream is to live long and die young. Only those Americans who are willing to die for their country are fit to live.

They say in the grave there is peace, and peace and the grave are one and the same.

For the dead there are no more toils.

When it comes to my own turn to lay my weapons down, I shall do so with thankfulness and fatigue, and whatever be my destiny afterward, I shall be glad to lie down with my fathers in honor. It is human at least, if not divine.

O Death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest, let pass my weary guiltless ghost out of my careful breast.

Oh how hard it is to die and leave one’s Country no better than if one had never lived for it.

Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!

The dead they sleep a long, long sleep; The dead they rest, and their rest is deep; The dead have peace, but the living weep.

Why do people want to pretend that death is sleep? It isn't. It isn't.

Every natural love will rise again and live forever in this country: but none will rise again until it has been buried.

The people who pretend that dying is rather like strolling into the next room always leave me unconvinced. Death, like birth, must be a tremendous event.

"When the dead are done with the living, the living can go on to other things," Franny said. "What about the dead?" I asked. "Where do we go?"

Remember, love is all a woman has to give, but it is the only thing which God permits us to carry beyond the grave.

I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave - thank God for the quiet grave

I died for beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, the two are one; We brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.

So when I'm killed, don't wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, don't wait for me, Or you must wait for evermore. You'll find me buried, living-dead In these verses that you've read.

What do people fear most about death? I asked the reb. "Fear?" he thought for a moment. 'Well, for one thing, what happens next? Where do we go? Is it what we imagined?" That's big. "Yes. But there's something else." What else? He leaned forward. "Being forgotten," he whispered.

What's so noble about being dead?

There will be sleeping enough in the grave.

Man's life is short; and therefore an honorable death is his immortality.