|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
|O Charidas, what of the underworld?|
And what of the resurrection?
A fable; we perish utterly.
Callimachus. Trans. by Macnail in Select Epigrams from the Greek Anthology. See also CallimachusEpigrams. XIV. L. 3. Anthologia Palatina. VII. 524.
| To smell to a turf of fresh earth is wholesome for the body; no less are thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul.|
FullerHoly and Profane States. Bk. IV. The Court Lady.
|That flesh is but the glasse, which holds the dust|
That measures all our time; which also shall
Be crumbled into dust.
HerbertThe Temple. Church Monuments.
The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:
We are as they;
Like them we fade away
As doth a leaf.
Christina G. RossettiConsider.
|Hier ist die Stelle wo ich sterblich bin.|
This is the spot where I am mortal.
SchillerDon Carlos. I. 6. 67.
|The immortal could we cease to contemplate,|
The mortal part suggests its every trait.
God laid His fingers on the ivories
Of her pure members as on smoothèd keys,
And there out-breathed her spirits harmonies.
Francis ThompsonHer Portrait. St. 7.
|At thirty, man suspects himself a fool,|
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,
In all the magnanimity of thought;
Resolves, and re-resolves, then dies the same.
And why? because he thinks himself immortal,
All men think all men mortal but themselves.
YoungNight Thoughts. Night I. L. 417.