All WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Quotes about “Death”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.”
“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
“Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.”
“To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.”
“To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles, And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep No more; and by a sleep, to say we end The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep, To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub.”
“So wise so young, they say, do never live long.”
“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.”
“By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.”
“Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.”
“When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.”
“Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.”
“Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.”
“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.”
“Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.”
“Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man: today he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, tomorrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And - when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening - nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.”
“Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.”
“Death lies on her like an untimely frost.”
“Nothing in his life became him like leaving it.”
“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?”
“I care not, a man can die but once; we owe God and death.”
“Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?”

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