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This is the end of him, here he lies:
The dust in his throat, the worm in his eyes,
The mould in his mouth, the turf on his breast;
This is the end of him, this is best.

— Amy Levy A Minor Poet, and Other Verse (1891)

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More quotes by Amy Levy

Yet fair are days in summer; and more fair
The growths of human goodness here and there.

A London Plane-tree, and Other Verse (1889)

Death, as a general statement, is so easy of utterance, of belief; it is only when we come face to face with it that we find the great mystery so cruelly hard to realise; for death, like love, is ever old and ever new.

The Romance of a Shop (1888)

To hold the pure delights of brain
Above light loves and sweet champagne.
For, you and I, we did eschew
The egoistic "I" and "you."

A London Plane-tree, and Other Verse (1889)

Some men sicken, with wine and food;
I starved on dreams, and found them good.

A London Plane-tree, and Other Verse (1889)

Oh, who can sound the human breast?
And this strange truth must be confessed;
That city do I love the best
Wherein my heart was heaviest!

A London Plane-tree, and Other Verse (1889)

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Attribution

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