Quotes About Death

Sweets to the sweet, farewell! I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife; I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid, And not have strewed thy grave.

A coward dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant taste of death but once. It seems to me most strange that men should fear, seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.

O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

Of all the wonders that I have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come. (Act II, Scene 2)

A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Thus I die. Thus, thus, thus. Now I am dead, Now I am fled, My soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light. Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die.

Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! And, lips, oh you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death!

Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

Life... is a paradise to what we fear of death.

Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.

It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.

Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth, Let's choose executors and talk of wills

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause, there's the respect, That makes calamity of so long life

As I love the name of honour more than I fear death.

Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head

If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!

I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument?

Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.

My dear dear lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation: that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: Take honour from me, and my life is done: Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live and for that will I die.

Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!