I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
(extract Song of Myself, Walt Whitman)
I slept and dreamt that life was joy.
I awoke and saw that life was service.
I acted and behold, service was joy.
- Rabindranath Tagore
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
- William Shakespeare, As You Like It, - Act II Scene VII
” Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
William Shakespeare, – Macbeth, 1606
” In a man’s life, his time is but a moment, his being a mere flux, his senses a dim glimpse,
his body food for the worms, and his soul a restless eddy ¦
the things of the body pass like a flowing stream;
life is a brief sojourn, and one’s mark in this world is soon forgotten.”
Poems on Life
- A Psalm Of Life – Henry Longfellow
- Life – Sri Aurobindo
- O Me! O Life! – Walt Whitman
- My Life Closed – Emily Dickinson