I caught a glimpse of his face in the moonlight, caked in mud and distorted with fury, then I reached for his flailing arms and held on tight. He tried to shake me off, but I kept holding on, until he stopped shouting and I felt the fight go out of him. Then I realised he too had his arms around me, And so we stood together like that, at the top of that field, for what seemed like ages, not saying anything, just holding each other, while the wind kept blowing and blowing at us, tugging our clothes, and for a moment, it seemed like we were holding onto each other because that was the only way to stop us being swept away into the night.
from Kazuo Ishiguro “Never Let Me Go”
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to? ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To dis to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to dream; ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life:
Not a whit, we defy augury; there is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ’tis not to come: if it be not come, it will be now: if it be not now, yet it will come; the readiness is all, since no man has aught of what he leaves. What is’t to leave betimes?
Heaven make thee free of it, I follow three.
I am dead Horatio, wretched Queen adieu.
You look that pale, and tremble at this chance,
That are but mutes or audience to this act:
Had I but time (as this fell Sergeant Death is strict in his arrest) O I could tell you.
But let it be: Horatio, I am dead,
Thou liv’st, report me and my cause aright
To the unsatisfied.
from William Shakespeare “Hamlet”