Not many artists commit suicide by leaping off the pinnacle of success.

Not many artists commit suicide by leaping off the pinnacle of success.

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.

You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
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You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please.

Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."

Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."

Fool! I mean not
That poor-souled piece of heroism, self-slaughter;
Oh no! the miserablest day we live
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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!

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.

Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep,
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, read more

Ah, yes, the sea is still and deep,
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, and all is o'er,
A plunge, a bubble, and no more.

Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
Cuts off so many years of fearing death.

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?