Horace Quotes

Pale death approaches with equal step, and knocks indiscriminately at the door of teh cottage, and the portals of the palace.

The sole equality on earth is death.

Fate with impartial hand turns out the doom of high and low; her capacious urn is constantly shaking the names of all mankind.

Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come

Pale death knocks with impartial foot at poor men's hovels and king's palaces.

Sooner or later a black car came for everyone.

The Rebel bullet that can kill me has not yet been molded.

Nothing is the destiny of everyone, it is our commonness made dumb.

The best of men cannot suspend their fate: The good die early, and the bad die late.

Whether you like it or not, you're forced to come to the realisation that death is out there. But I don't fear death, I'm a fatalist. I believe when it's your time, that's it. It's the hand you're dealt.

Pale death, with impartial step, knocks at the hut of the poor and the towers of kings.

Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.

Each man's death is fated from the beginning of time.

Death doesn't care about personalities - he's more interested in meeting quotas.

We were all fated to die, and so it is good that at least we can be sure our deaths today might bring about a good end, might make the world a better place.

And they die an equal death — the idler and the man of mighty deeds.

The great wheel of Fate rolls on like a Juggernaut, and crushes us all in turn, some soon, some late

The element running through entire nature, which we popularly call Fate, is known to us as limitation. Whatever limits us, we callFate.

Why so much grief for me? No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate. And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it’s born with us the day that we are born.

Our hour is marked, and no one can claim a moment of life beyond what fate has predestined.

The blackest ink of fate are sure my lot, And when fate writ my name it made a blot.

No man dies before his hour. The time you leave behind was no more yours, than that which was before your birth, and concerneth you no more.

No one knew where you were before you were born, but when you were born, it wasn't long before you found you'd arrived with your return ticket already punched.