Skip to content

Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave,
Swords may not fight with fate,
Earth still holds ope her gate.
Come, come, the bells do cry.
I am sick, I must die.

— Thomas Nashe Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

Another quote →

More quotes by Thomas Nashe

From winter, plague, and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us.

Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour.

Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

Evermore mayst thou be canonized as the Nonparreille of impious epistlers.

Four Letters (1592)

The Sun shineth as well on the good as the bad: God from on high beholdeth all the workers of iniquity, as well as the upright of heart.

Christ's Tears over Jerusalem (1593)

Blest is that government where no art thrives.

Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

All Thomas Nashe quotes →

Attribution

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