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The beasts (Conservatives) had committed suicide to save
themselves from slaughter.
The beasts (Conservatives) had committed suicide to save
themselves from slaughter.
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.
Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."
Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."
Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand.
Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand.
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.
If you like not hanging, drown yourself;
Take some course for your reputation.
If you like not hanging, drown yourself;
Take some course for your reputation.
There is no refuge from confession but suicide; and suicide is
confession.
There is no refuge from confession but suicide; and suicide is
confession.
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.
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?
