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You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To read more
You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please.
Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortune's false lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; read more
Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortune's false lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; that soul's most stout,
That, bearing all mischance, dares last it out.
Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow read more
Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try.
You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or read more
You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be.
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
Life is like a movie, if you've sat through more than half of it and its sucked every second so read more
Life is like a movie, if you've sat through more than half of it and its sucked every second so far, it probably isn't gonna get great right at the end and make it all worthwhile. None should blame you for walking out early.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
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For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?
Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand.
Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand.
Fool! I mean not
That poor-souled piece of heroism, self-slaughter;
Oh no! the miserablest day we live
read more
Fool! I mean not
That poor-souled piece of heroism, self-slaughter;
Oh no! the miserablest day we live
There's many a better thing to do than die!