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My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words without thoughts never to heaven go. - William ShakespeareI am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live up to what light I have. - Abraham LincolnHome is the place, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. - Robert FrostIf we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. - Mother TeresaOne man who has a mind and knows it can always beat ten men who haven't and don't. - George Bernard Shaw |
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Call no man happy till he is dead. Though this may be play to you, Tis death to us. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection. In the midst of life we are in death. Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep. Why fear death? It is the most beautiful adventure in life. Now I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap in the dark. Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last final awakening. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. We begin to die as soon as we are born, and the end is linked to the beginning. There is no death! the stars go down To rise upon some other shore, And bright in Heaven's jeweled crown, They shine for ever more. Strange—is it not?—that of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the road Which to discover we must travel too. I am dying, Egypt, dying. Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep. I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade. Till tired, he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er. 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. Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it. Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. First our pleasures die—and then Our hopes, and then our fears—and when These are dead, the debt is due, Dust claims dust—and we die too. God's finger touched him, and he slept. Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea. Nothing can happen more beautiful than death. For he who lives more lives than one More deaths than one must die. |
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Once you say you're going to settle for second, that's what happens to you in life, I find. |
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