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— William Shakespeare"To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come."
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Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
— Oscar Wilde
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We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.
— Marcel Proust
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