Quotes About Mortality

And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.

Alas, that they are so! To die even when they to perfection grow!

And my poor fool is hanged. No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life And thou no breath at all? O thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never.

There is plenty of time to sleep in the grave

But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd 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?

Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? HAMLET At supper. KING CLAUDIUS At supper! where? HAMLET Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service, two dishes, but to one table: that's the end.

CAPULET: ...Well, we were born to die.

Know the grave doth gape for thee thrice wider than for other men.

Life is better life past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear.

World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee/ Life would not yield to age.

Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itself!

Had I but died an hour before this chance I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant There's nothing serious in mortality.             All is but toys, renown and grace is dead, The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.

We strut and fret our hour upon the stage and then are no more.

Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.

He that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

What is thy body but a swallowing grave, Seeming to bury that posterity Which, by the rights of time, thou needs must have If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity? If so, the world will hold thee in disdain, Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.

What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid? Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal, And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.—

Be not so long to speak; I long to die

This might be the be-all and end-all here, but here, upon this bank and shoal of time, we'd jump the life to come

Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves Of their friends' gift? I should fear those that dance before me now Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.

He that hath a will to die by himself fears it not from another.

There's nothing serious in mortality. All is but toys. Renown and grace is dead. The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.

As you all know, Security Is Mortals chiefest Enemy.