Suicides

"Her face is like the Milky Way i' the sky, A meeting of gentle lights without a name."

"She's pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on."

"High characters (cries one); and he would see Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor ne'er will be."

"Just so, i' th' nick! i' th' very nick of time!"

"A health to the nut-brown lass, With the hazel eyes: let it pass. ... As much to the lively grey; 'Tis as good i' th' night as day."

"The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman: Mahu, Mahu is his name."

"But, as when an authentic watch is shown, Each man winds up and rectifies his own; So in our very judgments."

"Our sins, like to our shadows, When our day is in its glory, scarce appear: Towards our evening how great and monstrous They are!"

"To sea, to sea! The calm is o’er; The wanton water leaps in sport, And rattles down the pebbly shore; The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort, And unseen Mermaids’ pearly song Comes bubbling up, the weeds among. Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar: To sea, to sea! the calm is o’er.To sea, to sea! our wide-wing’d bark Shall billowy cleave its sunny way, And with its shadow, fleet and dark, Break the caved Tritons’ azure day, Like mighty eagle soaring light O’er antelopes on Alpine height. The anchor heaves, the ship swings free, The sails swell full. To sea, to sea!"

"A lake Is a river curled and asleep like a snake."

"Why, Rome was naked once, a bastard smudge, Tumbled on straw, the denfellow of whelps, Fattened on roots, and, when a-thirst for milk, He crept beneath and drank the swagging udder Of Tyber’s brave she-wolf; and Heaven’s Judea Was folded in a pannier."

"Is it not sweet to die? for, what is death, But sighing that we ne’er may sigh again, Getting a length beyond our tedious selves; But trampling the last tear from poisonous sorrow, Spilling our woes, crushing our frozen hopes, And passing like an incense out of man? Then, if the body felt, what were its sense, Turning to daisies gently in the grave, If not the soul’s most delicate delight When it does filtrate, through the pores of thought, In love and the enamelled flowers of song?"

"Hard by the lilied Nile I saw A duskish river-dragon stretched along, The brown habergeon of his limbs enamelled With sanguine almandines and rainy pearl: And on his back there lay a young one sleeping No bigger than a mouse; with eyes like beads, And a small fragment of its speckled egg Remaining on its harmless, pulpy snout; A thing to laugh at, as it gaped to catch The baulking, merry flies. In the iron jaws Of the great devil-beast, like a pale soul Fluttering in rocky hell, lightsomely flew A snowy troculus, with roseate beak Tearing the hairy leeches from his throat."

"I’ll take that fainting rose Out of his breast; perhaps some sigh of his Lives in the gyre of its kiss-coloured leaves. O pretty rose, hast thou thy flowery passions? Then put thyself into a scented rage, And breathe on me some poisonous revenge. For it was I, thou languid, silken blush, Who orphaned thy green family of thee, In their closed infancy: therefore receive My life, and spread it on thy shrunken petals, And give to me thy pink, reclining death."

"A ghost, that loved a lady fair, Ever in the starry air Of midnight at her pillow stood; And, with a sweetness skies above The luring words of human love, Her soul the phantom wooed. Sweet and sweet is their poisoned note, The little snakes of silver throat, In mossy skulls that nest and lie, Ever singing, “Die, oh! die.”Young soul put off your flesh, and come With me into the quiet tomb, Our bed is lovely, dark and sweet; The earth will swing us, as she goes, Beneath our coverlid of snows, And the warm leaden sheet. Dear and dear is their poisoned note, The little snakes of silver throat, In mossy skulls that nest and lie, Ever singing, “Die, oh! die.”"

"The swallow leaves her nest, The soul my weary breast; But therefore let the rain On my grave Fall pure; for why complain? Since both will come again O’er the wave.The wind dead leaves and snow Doth hurry to and fro; And, once, a day shall break O’er the wave, When a storm of ghosts shall shake The dead, until they wake In the grave."

"How many times do I love thee, dear? Tell me how many thoughts there be In the atmosphere Of a new-fall’n year, Whose white and sable hours appear The latest flake of Eternity: So many times do I love thee, dear.How many times do I love again? Tell me how many beads there are In a silver chain Of evening rain, Unravell’d from the tumbling main, And threading the eye of a yellow star: So many times do I love again."

"If there were dreams to sell, What would you buy? Some cost a passing bell; Some a light sigh, That shakes from Life’s fresh crown Only a rose-leaf down. If there were dreams to sell, Merry and sad to tell, And the crier rang the bell, What would you buy?A cottage lone and still, With bowers nigh, Shadowy, my woes to still, Until I die. Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown Fain would I shake me down. Were dreams to have at will, This would best heal my ill, This would I buy."

"Shivering in fever, weak, and parched to sand, My ears, those entrances of word-dressed thoughts, My pictured eyes, and my assuring touch, Fell from me, and my body turned me forth From its beloved abode: then I was dead; And in my grave beside my corpse I sat, In vain attempting to return: meantime There came the untimely spectres of two babes, And played in my abandoned body’s ruins; They went away; and, one by one, by snakes My limbs were swallowed; and, at last, I sat With only one, blue-eyed, curled round my ribs, Eating the last remainder of my heart, And hissing to himself. O sleep, thou fiend! Thou blackness of the night! how sad and frightful Are these thy dreams!"

"A cypress-bough, and a rose-wreath sweet, A wedding-robe, and a winding-sheet, A bridal bed and a bier. Thine be the kisses, maid, And smiling Love’s alarms; And thou, pale youth, be laid In the grave’s cold arms. Each in his own charms, Death and Hymen both are here; So up with scythe and torch, And to the old church porch, While all the bells ring clear: And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom, And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb."

"Old Adam, the carrion crow, The old crow of Cairo; He sat in the shower, and let it flow Under his tail and over his crest; And through every feather Leak’d the wet weather; And the bough swung under his nest; For his beak it was heavy with marrow. Is that the wind dying? O no; It’s only two devils, that blow Through a murderer’s bones, to and fro, In the ghosts’ moonshine.Ho! Eve, my grey carrion wife, When we have supped on kings’ marrow, Where shall we drink and make merry our life? Our nest it is queen Cleopatra’s skull, ’Tis cloven and crack’d, And batter’d and hack’d, But with tears of blue eyes it is full: Let us drink then, my raven of Cairo! Is that the wind dying? O no; It’s only two devils, that blow Through a murderer’s bones, to and fro, In the ghosts’ moonshine."

"By female voicesWe have bathed, where none have seen us, In the lake and in the fountain, Underneath the charmèd statue Of the timid, bending Venus, When the water-nymphs were counting In the waves the stars of night, And those maidens started at you, Your limbs shone through so soft and bright. But no secrets dare we tell, For thy slaves unlace thee, And he, who shall embrace thee, Waits to try thy beauty’s spell.By male voicesWe have crowned thee queen of women, Since love’s love, the rose, hath kept her Court within thy lips and blushes, And thine eye, in beauty swimming, Kissing, we rendered up the sceptre, At whose touch the startled soul Like an ocean bounds and gushes, And spirits bend at thy controul. But no secrets dare we tell, For thy slaves unlace thee, And he, who shall embrace thee, Is at hand, and so farewell."

"Squats on a toad-stool under a tree A bodiless childfull of life in the gloom, Crying with frog voice, “What shall I be? Poor unborn ghost, for my mother killed me Scarcely alive in her wicked womb. What shall I be? shall I creep to the egg That’s cracking asunder yonder by Nile, And with eighteen toes, And a snuff-taking nose, Make an Egyptian crocodile? Sing, ‘Catch a mummy by the leg And crunch him with an upper jaw, Wagging tail and clenching claw; Take a bill-full from my craw, Neighbour raven, caw, O caw, Grunt, my crocky, pretty maw!”“Swine, shall I be you? Thou’rt a dear dog; But for a smile, and kiss, and pout, I much prefer your black-lipped snout, Little, gruntless, fairy hog, Godson of the hawthorn hedge. For, when Ringwood snuffs me out, And ’gins my tender paunch to grapple, Sing, ’Twixt your ancles visage wedge, And roll up like an apple.”“Serpent Lucifer, how do you do? Of your worms and your snakes I’d be one or two; For in this dear planet of wool and of leather ’Tis pleasant to need neither shirt, sleeve, nor shoe, And have arm, leg, and belly together. Then aches your head, or are you lazy? Sing, ‘Round your neck your belly wrap, Tail-a-top, and make your cap Any bee and daisy.”“I’ll not be a fool, like the nightingale Who sits up all midnight without any ale, Making a noise with his nose; Nor a camel, although ’tis a beautiful back; Nor a duck, notwithstanding the music of quack, And the webby, mud-patting toes. I’ll be a new bird with the head of an ass, Two pigs’ feet, two mens’ feet, and two of a hen; Devil-winged; dragon-bellied; grave-jawed, because grass Is a beard that’s soon shaved, and grows seldom again Before it is summer; so cow all the rest; The new Dodo is finished. O! come to my nest.”"

"If thou wilt ease thine heart Of love and all its smart, Then sleep, dear, sleep; And not a sorrow Hang any tear on your eyelashes; Lie still and deep, Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes The rim o’ the sun to-morrow, In eastern sky.But wilt thou cure thine heart Of love and all its smart, Then die, dear, die; ’Tis deeper, sweeter, Than on a rose-bank to lie dreaming With folded eye; And there alone, amid the beaming Of Love’s stars, thou’lt meet her In eastern sky."

"The assassination must be attempted at all costs. Even if it should not succeed, an attempt to seize power in Berlin must be made. What matters now is no longer the practical purpose of the coup, but to prove to the world and for the records of history that the men of the resistance dared to take the decisive step. Compared to this objective, nothing else is of consequence."

"I would like to show the German people a film with the title "Germany at the end of the war". Then perhaps people would be alarmed and would realize where we are heading. People would agree with me that the superior warlord (Hitler) must disappear. But since we cannot show this movie people will create the legend of the "stab in the back" whenever we will act against Hitler."

"The idea of freedom can never be disassociated from real Prussia. The real Prussian spirit means a synthesis between restraint and freedom, between voluntary subordination and conscientious leadership, between pride in oneself and consideration for others, between rigor and compassion. Unless a balance is kept between these qualities, the Prussian spirit is in danger of degenerating into soulless routine and narrow-minded dogmatism."

"I cannot understand how people can still call themselves Christians and not be furious adversaries of Hitler's regime."

"Isn't it dreadful? Here we are, two officers of the German General Staff, discussing how best to murder our commander in chief. It must be done. This is our only chance... Hitler must be cut down like a rabid dog."

"It is almost certain that we will fail. But how will future history judge the German people, if not even a handful of men had the courage to put an end to that criminal?"

"Remember this moment. If we don't convince the field marshal (Fedor von Bock) to fly to Hitler at once and have these orders (Commissar Order) canceled, the German people will be burdened with a guilt the world will not forget in a hundred years. This guilt will fall not only on Hitler, Himmler, Göring, and their comrades but on you and me, your wife and mine, your children and mine, that woman crossing the street, and those children over there playing ball."

"The whole world will vilify us now, but I am still totally convinced that we did the right thing. Hitler is the archenemy not only of Germany but of the world. When, in few hours' time, I go before God to account for what I have done and left undone, I know I will be able to justify what I did in the struggle against Hitler. God promised Abraham that He would not destroy Sodom if just ten righteous men could be found in the city, and so I hope that for our sake God will not destroy Germany. No one among us can complain about his death, for whoever joined our ranks put on the shirt of Nessus. A man's moral worth is established only at the point where he is ready to give up his life in defense of his convictions."

"Bans are laws for the stupid."

"Hitler is a dancing dervish. He must be shot down."

"Every day, we are assassinating nearly 16,000 additional victims."

"I humbly submit that England is the implacable, inveterate, irreconcilable enemy of the republic, which never can be in perfect security while that nation retains the dominion of the sea; that in consequence every possible effort should be made to humble her pride and to reduce her power; that it is in Ireland, and in Ireland only, that she is vulnerable—a fact of the truth of which the French Government cannot be too strongly impressed; that by establishing a free republic in Ireland they attach to France a grateful ally whose cordial assistance, in peace and war, she might command and who, from situation and produce, could most essentially serve her."

"We have come here not merely to salute this noble dust and to pay our homage to the noble spirit of Tone. We have come to renew our adhesion to the faith of Tone; to express once more our full acceptance of the gospel of Irish Nationalism which he was the first to formulate in worthy terms. ... [H]e made articulate the dumb voices of the centuries, he gave Ireland a clear and precise and worthy concept of Nationality. But he did more than this: not only did he define Irish Nationalism, but he armed his generation in defence of it. ... To his teaching we owe it that there is such a thing as Irish Nationalism, and to the memory of the deed he nerved his generation to do, to the memory of '98, we owe it that there is any manhood left in Ireland."

"We have come to the holiest place in Ireland; holier to us even than the place where Patrick sleeps in Down. Patrick brought us life, but this man died for us. And though many before him and some since have died in testimony of the truth of Ireland's claim to nationhood, Wolfe Tone was the greatest of all that have made that testimony, the greatest of all that have died for Ireland whether in old time or in new. He was the greatest of Irish Nationalists. I believe he was the greatest of Irish men."

"[B]y some writings which are said to be his, he appears to be a man of considerable talent. He was tried by a court martial...where I understand he conducted himself with great firmness. He had prepared a speech, part of which he was permitted to deliver, the rest being conceived inflammatory. By that part which he delivered he discovered a superiority of mind which must give to him a degree of sympathy beyond what is given to ordinary criminals."

"It would be a manifest exaggeration to call him a great man, but he had many of the qualities of mind and character by which, under favourable conditions, greatness has been achieved, and he rises far above the dreary level of commonplace which Irish conspiracy in general presents. The tawdry and exaggerated rhetoric; the petty vanities and jealousies; the weak sentimentalism; the utter incapacity for proportioning means to ends, and for grasping the stern realities of things, which so commonly disfigure the lives and conduct even of the more honest members of his class, were wholly alien to his nature. His judgment of men and things was keen, lucid, and masculine, and he was alike prompt in decision and brave in action... His journals clearly show how time, and experience, and larger scenes of action, had matured and strengthened both his intellect and character. The old levity had passed away. The constant fits of drunkenness that disfigured his early life no longer occur. The spirit of a mere adventurer had become much less apparent. A strong and serious devotion to an unselfish cause, had unquestionably grown up within him, and if he had become very unscrupulous about the means of attaining his end, he at least was prepared to sacrifice to it, not only his life, but also all personal vanity, pretensions, and ambition."

"The trial of the unfortunate Mr Tone came on today... He was dressed as a French officer in a superb and beautiful suit of regimentals and behaved in the most firm and dignified manner. He read his defence which was at once inflammatory and eloquent. He came, he said, to raise three millions of his countrymen to the rank of men! In enterprises of this kind, he continued, success is everything. Washington succeeded! Kosciusko failed! Perfectly aware of the fate that awaited him, he had only one request to make, that as a French officer he might be shot."

"Mr Tone is a low, thin, smart man about twenty-six years old, of an animated intelligent countenance, and seems to possess very good abilities. He appeared to have very little reserve, answered every question asked him readily, yet whenever such questions were asked as at all involved his party in Ireland his answers were distorted by uncommon shrewdness, screening his party and aiming at an appearance of plausible sincerity."

"To subvert the tyranny of our execrable government, to break the connection with England, the never-failing source of all our political evils, and to assert the independence of my country, these were my objectives. To unite the whole people of Ireland, to abolish the memory of past dissensions, and to substitute the common name of Irishman, in place of the denominations of Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter, these were my means."

"The Revolution of ’82 (1782) was a revolution which enabled Irishmen to sell at a much higher price their honour, their integrity, and the interests of their country; it was a revolution which while at one stroke it doubled the value of every borough monger in the Kingdom, left three-fourths of our countrymen [Catholics] slaves as it found them, and the Government of Ireland in the base, wicked and contemptible hands who had spent their lives plundering and degrading her … Who of the veteran enemies of the country lost his place, or his pension? Not one. The power remained in the hands of our enemies, again to be exerted for our ruin, with this difference, that, formerly, we had our distresses gratis at the hands of England, but now we pay very dearly to receive the same with aggravations at the hands of Irishmen—yet this we boast of and call a Revolution."

"[T]hey and the Catholics had but one common interest and one common enemy; that the depression and slavery of Ireland was produced and perpetuated by the divisions existing between them; and that consequently to assert the independence of their country, and their own individual liberties it was necessary to forget all former feuds, to consolidate the entire strength of the whole nation, and form for the first time but one people."

"Be assured I will die as I have lived, and that you will have no reason to blush for me."

"The fortune of war has thrown me into the hands of Government, and I am utterly ignorant of what fate may attend me, but in the worst event I hope I shall bear it like a man, and that my death will not disgrace my life."

"I have laboured to abolish the infernal spirit of religious persecution by uniting the Catholics and Dissenters. To the former, I owe more than ever can be repaid. The service I was so fortunate as to render them they rewarded munificently but they did more: when the public cry was raised against me, when the friends of my youth swarmed off and left me alone, the Catholics did not desert me. They had the virtue even to sacrifice their own interests to a rigid principle of honour. They refused, though strongly urged, to disgrace a man who, whatever his conduct towards the Government might have been, had faithfully and conscientiously discharged his duty towards them and in so doing, though it was in my own case, I will say they showed an instance of public virtue of which I know not whether there exists another example.""

"From my tenderest youth I have considered the union of Ireland with Great-Britain as the scourge of the Irish nation. And that the people of this country can have neither happiness nor freedom whilst that connection endures. Every day's experience, and every fact that arose, convinced me of this truth; and I resolved, if I could, to separate the two countries. But as I knew Ireland could not of herself, throw off the yoke, I sought for help wherever I could find it."

"On my arrival here, Major Chester informed me that his orders from your Lordship, in consequence, as I presume, of the directions of Government, were that I should be put in irons. I take it for granted those orders were issued in ignorance of the rank I have the honour to hold in the armies of the French Republic... I do protest, in the most precise and strongest manner, against the indignity intended against the honour of the French army in my person; and I claim the rights and privileges of a prisoner of war, agreeably to my rank and situation in an army not less to be respected in all points than any other which exists in Europe. From the situation your Lordship holds under your Government, I must presume you have discretionary power to act according to circumstances, and I cannot for a moment doubt but what I have now explained to your Lordship will induce you to give immediate orders that the honour of the French army be respected in my person; and of course I shall suffer no coercion other than in common with the rest of my brave comrades whom the fortune of war has for the moment deprived of their Liberty."