Death

“I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.

The poetry of the earth is never dead

Mortality weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep

Museums are the cemeteries of the arts

An hour-glass is a reminder not only of time's quick flight, but also of the dust to which we must at last return

I cannot stop thinking that I died before I was born and that at my death I will return to the same state

The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny

Trust no future, however pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, act in the living present! Heart within and God overhead

Life is a predicament which precedes death.