Ridicule often checks what is absurd, and fully as often smothers that >>
One hour of life, crowded to the full with glorious action, and filled >>
Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath sa >>
'Tis after death that we measure men. >>
Death is the dropping of the flower that the fruit may swell. >>
There will be no lasting peace either in the heart of individuals or i >>
Death -- the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening.