Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
Act I, scene 2, line 72.
I do not set my life at a pin's fee;
And, for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
Act I, scene 4, line 67.
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd;
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
Act I, scene 5, line 76.
To die:—to sleep:
No more; and, by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished.
Act III, scene 1, line 60.
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.
Act III, scene 1, line 66.
Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life;
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?
Act III, scene 1, line 76. ("These fardels" in folio).
We should profane the service of the dead,
To sing a requiem and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.
Act V, scene 1, line 259.
O proud death,
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,
That thou so many princes at a shot
So bloodily hast, struck?
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
Act II, scene 2, line 30.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
Act II, scene 2, line 33.
That we shall die we know; 'tis but the time
And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
Act III, scene 1, line 99.
He that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
Act III, scene 1, line 101.
We must die, Messala:
With meditating that she must die once,
I have the patience to endure it now.
Be absolute for death; either death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter.
Act III, scene 1, line 4.
What's yet in this,
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even.
Act III, scene 1, line 38.
Dar'st thou die?
The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great
As when a giant dies.
Act III, scene 1, line 77.
If I must die
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.
Act III, scene 1, line 83.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot.
Act III, scene 1, line 118.
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence roundabout
The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and incertain thought
Imagine howling; 'tis too horrible!
Act III, scene 1, line 124.
The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death.
Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay;
The worst is death, and death will have his day.
Act III, scene 2, line 102.
Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath,
Save our desposed bodies to the ground?
Act III, scene 2, line 148.
Nothing can we call our own but death
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Act III, scene 2, line 152.
Within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king,
Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp.
Act III, scene 2, line 161.
And there at Venice gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.
Act IV, scene 1, line 97.
Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire,
That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
Hath with thy king's blood stain'd the king's own land.
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Act IV, scene 5, line 28.
How oft, when men are at the point of death,
Have they been merry! which their keepers call
A lightning before death.
Act V, scene 3, line 88.
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty;
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Act V, scene 3, line 92.
Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death.
A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, e'en at the turning o' th' tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. "How now, Sir John?" quoth I: "what, man! be o' good cheer." So a' cried out—"God, God, God!" three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet.
My sick heart shows
That I must yield my body to the earth,
And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle;
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept:
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree,
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.
Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath:
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
Oh, prepare it!
My part of death no one so true
Did share it.