Death Quotes — page 16

'Tis the night—the night Of the grave's delight, And the warlocks are at their play! Ye think that without, The wild winds shout, But no, it is they—it is they!

Those who live on vanity must not unreasonably expect to die of mortification.

Good Christian People, I have not come here to preach a sermon; I have come here to die.

Burned are our homes, exile and death, Scattered the loyal men. Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath, Charlie will come again.

The game of speculation is the most uniformly fascinating game in the world. But it is not a game for the stupid, the mentally lazy, the person of inferior emotional balance, or the get-rich-quick adventurer. They will die poor.

I have certainly experienced severe trials, and some hard dispensations of Providence … To travel with some dignity, innocence, and usefulness, down the Road which leads from the Morning of Youth to the Night of the Grave, is perhaps as …

Death! Plop. The barges down in the river flop. Flop, plop, Above, beneath. From the slimy branches the grey drips drop...

"Foote," (said lord Sandwich) "I have often wondered what catastrophe would bring you to your end; but I think, that you must either die of the p-x, or the halter." "My lord," (replied Foote instantaneously) "that will depend upon one of …

We shall lodge at the sign of the Grave, you say; Well, the road is a long one we trudge, my friend, So why should we grieve at the break of the day? Let us sing, let us drink, let us love, let us play,-- We can keep our sights for the …

Alone from Jargon born to rescue Law, From precedent, grave hum, and formal saw! To strip chicanery of its vain pretence, And marry Common Law to Common Sense!

I feel convinced that every man has given him of God much more than he has any idea of, and that he can help on the world's work more than he knows of. What we want is the single eye that will see what our work is, the humility to accept …

She throws a kiss, and bids me run In whispers sweet as roses’ breath; I know I can not win the race, And at the end, I know, is death.

Finality is death. Perfection is finality. Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it.

To keep through life the posture of the grave, While others walk and run and dance and leap.

The children play At hide and seek About the monument To Speke. And why should the dead Explorer mind

Should pale death with arrow dread Make the ocean caves our bed, Though no eye of love might see Where that shrouded grave shall be, Thou! who hear'st the surges roll, Deign to save the suppliant soul.

To him the heavens a fearful aspect wear, Strange are the accents murmur’d in his ear. He steals no balm from pity’s lenient breath Hope sheds no gleam, but through the vale of death: An alien, far from nature’s bosom cast, He broods on …

Patchwork? Ah, no! It was memory, imagination, history, biography, joy, sorrow, philosophy, religion, romance, realism, life, love and death; and over all, like a halo, the love of the artist for his work and the soul's longing for earthly …

Teach him how to live, And, oh still harder lesson! how to die.

I was born, and am like to die in her tottering communion, but I despise her nonsense.

I not only wish them all dead but I wish them all in Hell.

"And when we die, All’s over that is ours; and life burns on Through other lovers, other lips," said I —"Heart of my heart, our heaven is now, is won!" "We are earth’s best, that learnt her lesson here, Life is our cry. We have kept the …

Death had to take him in his sleep, for if Roosevelt had been awake, there would have been a fight.

In all her charms, set Virtue in their eye, And let them see their loss, despair, and—die!