You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To read more

You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please.

And the more pity that great folk should have count'nance in this
world to drown or hang themselves more read more

And the more pity that great folk should have count'nance in this
world to drown or hang themselves more than their even-Christen.

When Fannius from his foe did fly
Himself with his own hands he slew;
Who e'er a read more

When Fannius from his foe did fly
Himself with his own hands he slew;
Who e'er a greater madness knew?
Life to destroy for fear to die.

Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow read more

Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try.

Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
read more

Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
O Britain! infamous for suicide.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
read more

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?

Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortune's false lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; read more

Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortune's false lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; that soul's most stout,
That, bearing all mischance, dares last it out.

You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or read more

You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be.

He
That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it,
And, at the best, shows but a bastard read more

He
That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it,
And, at the best, shows but a bastard valour.
This life's a fort committed to my trust,
Which I must not yield up, till it be forced:
Nor will I. He's not valiant that dares die,
But he that boldly bears calamity.