Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,Īnd death's pale flag is not advanced there.Īrms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you Thou art not conquer'd beauty's ensign yet Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,.Have they been merry! which their keepers call How oft, when men are at the point of death,.Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. Death lies on her, like an untimely frost.Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high Hath with thy king's blood stain'd the king's own land. That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire, Go thou, and fill another room in hell.Under whose colours he had fought so long. His body to that pleasant country's earth,Īnd his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp. Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. Let's choose executors and talk of wills:Īnd yet not so, for what can we bequeath,.The worst is death, and death will have his day. The weariest and most loathed worldly life.Of those, that lawless and incertain thought The pendent world or to be worse than worst To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,Īnd blown with restless violence roundabout.Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great The sense of death is most in apprehension Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear, That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Be absolute for death either death or life.That we shall die we know 'tis but the timeĪnd drawing days out, that men stand upon.It seems to me most strange that men should fear Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, The valiant never taste of death but once. Cowards die many times before their deaths.The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. When beggars die, there are no comets seen.What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, We should profane the service of the dead,.The undiscover'd country from whose bournĪnd makes us rather bear those ills we have When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,īut that the dread of something after death, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,.

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks No reckoning made, but sent to my account Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,.

I do not to set my life at a pin's fee Īnd, for my soul, what can it do to that,.

He was an man, take him for all in all.

Thou know'st 'tis common all that lives must die,.

Shakespeare quotes about endings