“Autumn has come;
Storming now heaveth the deep sea with foam,
Yet would I gratefully lie there,
Willingly die there.”

“O autumn winds that bake and burn
And all the world to darkness turn,
Now storm and seize and make of me…
A swarm of leaves from Autumn’s Tree!”

“Ah, yet would God this flesh of mine might be
Where air might wash and long leaves cover me;
Where tides of grass break into foam of flowers,
Or where the wind's feet shine along the sea.”

“I’d rather die at sea, with one deep gulp of death,
than die by inches on this desolate island here!”

“Dive deep. Drown willingly”

“Autumn is no time to lie alone”

“Just as a vessel caught by the Pleiads on the foaming deep and kept safe only by its anxious helmsman’s care cleaves unharmed the sea that contending winds make boisterous, so Pollux warily watches the blows.”
Spumanti qualis in alto Pliade capta ratis, trepidi quam sola magistri cura tenet, rapidum ventis certantibus aequor intemerata secat, Pollux sic providus ictus servat.

“They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea:
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee.”

“The wind is rising on the sea,
The windy white foam-dancers leap;
And the sea moans uneasily,
And turns to sleep, and cannot sleep.”

“The truth of the matter is, you die, all you do is die, and yet you live, yes you live, and that's no Harvard lie.”