A Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last! — © Percy Bysshe Shelley
The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
O cease! must hate and death return, Cease! must men kill and die? Cease! drain not to its dregs the urn Of bitter prophecy. The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
What is past is past. You can do nothing about yesterday and last month and the failures of last year, but you can do everything toward making tomorrow and the rest of your life what you always dreamed it could be.
The world ends when I die. And as far as I'm concerned, the rest of the universe might as well call it a day too.
Besides, whoever keeps the future in front of him and the past at his back is doing something else that's hard to imagine. For the image implies that events somehow already exist in the future, reach the present at a determined moment, and finally come to rest in the past. But nothing exists in the future; it is empty; one might die at any minute. Therefore such a person has his face toward the void, whereas it is the past behind him that is visible, stored in the memory.
How beautiful it is for a man to die Upon the walls of Zion! to be called Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, To put his armour off, and rest in heaven!
I think a nap or a rest overnight is great. But who needs three days of rest? Please! The second day, you might die.
Oh, cold world -- I have grown so weary of you and all your horrible bathrooms.
Oh that it were with me As with the flower; Blooming on its own tree For butterfly and bee Its summer morns: That I might bloom mine hour A rose in spite of thorns. Oh that my work were done As birds' that soar Rejoicing in the sun: That when my time is run And daylight too, I so might rest once more Cool with refreshing dew.
Oh God! that one might read the book of fate, And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea.
This cabin, Mary, in my sight appears, Built as it has been in our waning years, A rest afforded to our weary feet, Preliminary to - the last retreat.
Sweet to think on it, that when we are last weary of all this world there is the rising sun
I think that the Almighty gave springtime to a tired world so that its peoples might know rest. I think that He gave it to a troubled world so that the world's inhabitants might find peace. I think He gave it to a discouraged world so that hope and faith might be reborn!
I always say I'll rest when I die - that's my motto. I just hope I don't die before the World Cup!
Women should remain at home, sit still, keep house, and bear and bring up children...If a woman grows weary and, at last, dies from childbearing, it matters not. Let her die from bearing - she is there to do it.
Italy will start the future. Because in the last 20, 20 years, Italy discussed only about the past. "Oh, the past is wonderful in Italy." Look, look Palazzo Vecchio. The most beautiful place in the world, in my opinion, I think this is incredible place. But the past is not sufficient. Is not enough. We need the future. Because we are Italians. And Italy is not only a museum.
Maybe the last human being on Earth won't die of starvation or exposure or as a meal of wild animals. Maybe the last one to die will be killed by the last one alive.
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