1 It is the coming of death that terrifies me.
2 A verdict of death by misadventure was returned.
3 The death of Basil Hallward seemed very little to him.
4 It was the living death of his own soul that troubled him.
5 There was something fascinating in this son of love and death.
6 Yes: it is a matter of life and death, Alan, and to more than one person.
7 He felt as if his heart was beating itself to death in some empty hollow.
8 Her death has all the pathetic uselessness of martyrdom, all its wasted beauty.
9 Nor, indeed, was it the death of Basil Hallward that weighed most upon his mind.
10 It had received the news of Sibyl Vane's death before he had known of it himself.
11 The mother snatched away by death, the boy left to solitude and the tyranny of an old and loveless man.
12 The dreadful death of the unlucky beater, shot in the thicket like a wild animal, had seemed to him to pre-figure death for himself also.
13 Now it was to hide something that had a corruption of its own, worse than the corruption of death itself--something that would breed horrors and yet would never die.
14 But you must think of that lonely death in the tawdry dressing-room simply as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, as a wonderful scene from Webster, or Ford, or Cyril Tourneur.