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• And 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.
  For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings....
• Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
  -- Edward Young...
• Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
  -- Edmund Waller (1605-1687) -- Upon the Death of the Lord Protecto...
• While man is growing, life is in decrease; And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.
  Our birth is nothing but our death begun....
• Adversity borrows its sharpest sting from our impatience. -- Bishop Horne
• Even such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with age and du
  Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days....
• Our wills and fates do so contrary run That our devices still are overthrown.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet -- Act iii, Sc. 2...
• We hanged our harps upon the willows. -- Old Testament -- Psalm cxxxvii, 2
• Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet -- Act iii, Sc. 2...