Death Quotes — page 11

I have examined you long enough. I have read your heart, and written out your secrets! You are but a shell—the shell that holds a corrupted and sinful heart. He shall live; you shall die!

"Oh! hush these suspicions," Fair Imogine said, "Offensive to Love and to me! For if ye be living, or if ye be dead, I swear by the Virgin, that none in your stead Shall Husband of Imogine be."

For death and life, in ceaseless strife, Beat wild on this world’s shore, And all our calm is in that balm— Not lost but gone before.

Maeterlinck says that compared with ordinary truths mystic truths have strange privileges—they can neither age nor die. Beauty is eternal and ugliness, thank God, is ephemeral. Can there be any question as to which should attract the poet?

The ladies of St. James’s! They’re painted to the eyes; Their white it stays forever Their red it never dies: But Phillida, my Phillida! Her colour comes and goes;

After I am dead, the boy will ruin himself in twelve months.

We have hereafter only two roads to choose: one is to embrace the ancient literature and die, the other is to forsake the ancient literature and live.

All that happens in the world of Nature or Man, — every war; every peace; every hour of prosperity; every hour of adversity; every election; every death ; every life; every success and every failure, — all change, — all permanence, — the …

Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale, but surely, surely, …

Evening in majestic shadows fell upon the fortress' walls: Sweetly were the last bells ringing on the James and on the Charles. 'Mid the choruses of freedom two departed victors lay, One beside the blue Rivanna, one by Massachusetts Bay. …

Prostrate on earth the bleeding warrior lies, And Isr'el's beauty on the mountains dies. How are the mighty fallen! Hush'd be my sorrow, gently fall my tears, Lest my sad tale should reach the alien's ears: Bid Fame be dumb, and tremble to …

He is wealthy enough, that wanteth not: he is great enough, that is his own master: he is happy enough, that lives to die well.

If heaven send no supplies, The fairest blossom of the garden dies.

We do not want sentence of death with a stay of execution for six years.

The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet.

—————————— to death's abode Prone lies the path, and facile is the road. To all who seek them open day and night, Pluto's black gates with broad access invite. But to recall the foot, retrace the way Up the dark steep, and re-assert the …

On the king’s gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They called him dead; And made his eldest son one day Slave in his father’s stead.

Courage, mon ami, le diable est mort! / Take courage, my friend, the devil is dead!

I repose in this quiet and secluded spot not from any natural preference for solitude, but finding other cemeteries limited as to race by charter rules, I have chosen this that I might illustrate in my death the principles which I …

Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

Thunder-spasms the waking be Into Life from Apathy: Life, not Death, is in the gale, — Let the coming Doom prevail!

The stars are dimly seen among the shadows of the bay, And lights that win are seen in strife with lights that die away.

I, the ocean of mind, drink all creation’s waves. The four veils of solid, liquid, vapor, light, Lift aright. Myself, in everything, Enters the Great Myself. Gone forever,

So frequent and serious has the grave charge of rape become, there should be full investigation of every such accusation which is considered sufficient excuse for the most diabolical outrage and torture.