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Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? - William Shakespeare, Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Hamlet at III, i) Lay her i' th' earth, And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! - William Shakespeare, Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Laertes at V, i) We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls. - William Shakespeare, Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Doctor at V, i) O proud Death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell That thou so many princes at a shot So bloodily hast struck? - William Shakespeare, Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Fortinbras at V, ii) Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. It seems to me most strange that men should fear, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Caesar at II, ii) Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Caesar at II, ii) When beggars die there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Calphurnia at II, ii) That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time, And drawing days out, that men stand upon. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Brutus at III, i) Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Casca at III, i) We must die, Messala. With meditating that she must die once, I have the patience to endure it now. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Brutus at IV, iii) Come, let us take a muster speedily. Doomsday is near. Die all, die merrily. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part I (Hotspur at IV, i) Look how we can, or sad or merrily, Interpretation will misquote our looks, And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, The better cherished still the nearer death. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part I (Worcester at V, ii) A man can die but once. We owe God a death. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part II (Feeble at III, ii) What, is the old king dead? As nail in door. The things I speak are just. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part II (Falstaff & Pistol at V, iii) Ah, what a sign it is of evil life Where death's approach is seen so terrible. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Sixth, Part II (King Henry at III, iii) He dies and makes no sign. O God, forgive him. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Sixth, Part II (King Henry at III, iii) The sands are numb'red that makes up my life. Here must I stay and here my life must end. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Sixth, Part III (Plantagenet, Duke of York at I, iv) Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe, And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick. Why ask I that? My mangled body shows, My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows, That I must yield my body to the earth. And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, Under whose shade the ramping lion slept, Whose top-branch overpeered Jove's spreading tee And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Sixth, Part III (Warwick at V, ii) Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust And, live we how we can, yet die we must. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Sixth, Part III (Warwick at V, ii) O our lives' sweetness, That we the pain of death would hourly die Rather than die at once! - William Shakespeare, King Lear (Edgar at V, iii) So wise so young, they say, do never live long. - William Shakespeare, King Richard III (III, iii) Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it. - William Shakespeare, Macbeth (Malcolm at I, iv) Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst: nor steel nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further. - William Shakespeare, Macbeth (Macbeth at III, ii) Ay, but to die, and go we know not where, To lie in cold obstruction and to rot, This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice, To be imprisoned in the viewless winds And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse that worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling, 'tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature is a paradise To what we fear of death. - William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure (Claudio at III, i) Be absolute for death: either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. - William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure (Vincentio, the Duke at III, i) Displaying page 28 of 36 for this topic: << Prev Next >> 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 [28] 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
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