“And dying is more natural than living, because what could be more unnatural than that panicstricken thing leaping and falling like a last flame beneath the ribs?”

“Love is illogical. You fall into it like a manhole. Then you're just stuck. You die in love more than you live in love.”

“Because there is nothing here than invites us to cherish unhappy lovers. Nothing is more vain than to die for love. What we ought to do is live.”

“More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before:The setting sun, and music at the close,As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,Writ in remembrance more than things long past”

“O, but they say, the tongues of dying men enforce attention, like deep harmony: where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain: for they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain. he, that no more must say, is listened more than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze; more are men's ends marked, than their lives before: the setting sun, and music at the close, as the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; writ in rememberance more than things long past”

“For he who lives more lives than one more deaths than one must die.”