“Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.”

Doth not a man die even in his birth? The breaking of prison is death, and what is our birth, but a breaking of prison?

For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love.

As soon as there was two there was pride.

Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

What if this present were the world’s last night?

Only our love hath no decay; this, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, running it never runs from us away, but truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.

Thy face is mine eye, and mine is thine.

I am a little world made cunningly.

Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

Keep us, Lord, so awake in the duties of our calling that we may sleep in thy peace and wake in thy glory.

Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

Love was as subtly caught, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, for though ‘Tis got by chance, ‘Tis kept by art.

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?

So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.

Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?

August died but summer lived on with your kiss.

And though the years before I die Stretch out interminably, I Shall only count my life in truth As that brief hour of happy youth.

Living my life to protect your fragile heart is what I would die for.

I was there when God was put on trial. At the end of the trial, they used the word chayav, rather than ‘guilty’. It means ‘He owes us something’. Then we went to pray.

Our love will never die. We’ll just dream another fantasy about touching each other.

I would rather die for Christ than rule the whole earth.

The only way to kill death is through photography.

Those who have long enjoyed such privileges as we enjoy forget in time that men have died to win them.