Quotes About Mortality

Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

death, The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns

Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: And you all know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, My scepter for a palmer's walking staff My subjects for a pair of carved saints and my large kingdom for a little grave.

For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it error.

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come?

Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.

Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause

Noi siamo della stessa materia Di cui son fatti i sogni E la nostra piccola vita È circondata da un sonno.

the time of life is short; To spend that shortness basely were too long.

This world's a city full of straying streets, and death's the market-place where each one meets.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Somos de la misma sustancia que los sueños, y nuestra breve vida culmina en un dormir.

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73

Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.

Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, and thou no breath at all?

Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death's.

Well, we were born to die.

We that are true lovers run into strange capers. But as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.