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Dear, was it really you and I?
In truth the riddle's ill to read,
So many are the deaths we die
Before we can be dead indeed.

— William Ernest Henley Poems (1898)

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Death

More quotes by William Ernest Henley

From the winter's gray despair,
From the summer’s golden languor,
Death, the lover of Life,
Frees us for ever.

A Book of Verses (1888)

'Life is worth Living
Through every grain of it,
From the foundations
To the last edge
Of the cornerstone, death.'

Poems (1898)

Night with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.

A Book of Verses (1888)

Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

A Book of Verses (1888)

Life — life — life! 'Tis the sole great thing
This side of death,
Heart on heart in the wonder of Spring!

Hawthorn and Lavender (1901)

All William Ernest Henley quotes →

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: William Ernest Henley (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.