Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love.

I despised my arrival on this earth and I despise my departure; it is a tragedy.

There is a world elsewhere.

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.

Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes; then little strength rings out the doleful knell.

Et tu Brute! (You too, Brutus!)