A Quote by Lord Byron

Old man! 'Tis not difficult to die. — © Lord Byron
Old man! 'Tis not difficult to die.
God is favorable to those whom he makes to die by degrees; 'tis the only benefit of old age. The last death will be so much the less painful: it will kill but a quarter of a man or but half a one at most.
Tis not the dying for a faith that's so hard... 'Tis the living up to it that's difficult.
Tis immortality to die aspiring, As if a man were taken quick to heaven.
Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains The east; 'tis time unfolds Eternity.
Tis said that wrath is the last thing in a man to grow old.
'Tis said that wrath is the last thing in a man to grow old.
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.
And O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death. And O what a bright old song it is, that O 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go round!
Though love repine, and reason chafe, There came a voice without reply,- "'Tis man's perdition to be safe, When for the truth he ought to die."
Tis true, 'tis certain; man, though dead, retains Part of himself; the immortal mind remains.
Romeo: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mercutio: No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
Tis well to be merry and wise, 'Tis well to be honest and true; It is best to be off with the old love, Before you are on with the new.
Love is the fart Of every heart It pains the man when 'tis kept close, And others doth offend, when 'tis let loose.
'Tis solitude should teach us how to die; It hath no flatterers; vanity can give, No hollow aid; alone - man with God must strive.
'Tis time, my friend, 'tis time! For rest the heart is aching; Days follow days in flight, and every day is taking, Fragments of being, while together you and I, Make plans to live. Look, all is dust, and we shall die.
Tis well to borrow from the good and the great; 'Tis wise to learn: 'tis God-like to create!
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