Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Not many artists commit suicide by leaping off the pinnacle of success.

Not many artists commit suicide by leaping off the pinnacle of success.

Life is like a movie, if you've sat through more than half of it and its sucked every second so read more

Life is like a movie, if you've sat through more than half of it and its sucked every second so far, it probably isn't gonna get great right at the end and make it all worthwhile. None should blame you for walking out early.

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.

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.

Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep,
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, read more

Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep,
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, and all is o'er,
A plunge, a bubble, and no more.

While foulest fiends shun thy society.

While foulest fiends shun thy society.

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?

But if there be an hereafter,
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, read more

But if there be an hereafter,
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man,
Then must it be an awful thing to die;
More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.