Babies haven't any hair; Old men's heads are just as bare; Between the cradle and the grave Lies a haircut and a shave.
Samuel Hoffenstein (1890 - 1947)
Source: Song of Faith in the Year After Next, VIII
Contributed by: Zaady
I burned my candle at both ends, And now have neither foes nor friends.
Source: Songs of Fairly Utter Despair
The dead they sleep a long, long sleep; The dead they rest, and their rest is deep; The dead have peace, but the living weep.
THE HEART'S DEAD ARE NEVER BURIED.
Source: Summer Day