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Updated: May 12, 2025
A forlorn façade The church of the Medici Cosimo's parents' tomb Donatello's cantoria and pulpits Brunelleschi's sacristy Donatello again The palace of the dead Grand Dukes Costly intarsia Michelangelo's sacristy A weary Titan's life The victim of capricious pontiffs The Medici tombs Mementi mori The Casa Buonarroti Brunelleschi's cloisters A model library.
Another poem is headed "Memento Mori;" and another, entitled a "Song in June," which ought to be cheerful, goes off into the doleful request to somebody, or anybody, to Weave me a shroud in the month of June!
I was glad to shut the sight from my eyes. We waited silently in the bedroom, Lola sitting on the bed and hiding her face in the pillows, and I standing by the window and looking out at the smiling mockery of the fair earth. An agonising spasm of pain a momento mori shot through me and passed away. I thanked God that a few weeks would see the end of me. I had always enjoyed the comedy of life.
In condensed simplicity he is the first of Latin poets. Who that has once heard can forget such phrases as Nil desperandum, splendide mendax, non omnis moriar, dulce et decorum est pro patria mori, and a hundred others? His brevity is equalled by his ease. By this must not be understood either spontaneity of invention or rapidity of execution. We know that he was a slow, nay, a laborious workman.
I couldn't believe my ears! . . . But for his stupid ferocity, it would have taken me years to find you out. It's extraordinary how in one way or another this man has managed to fasten himself on my deeper feelings." "Vedi Napoli e poi mori."
Would man and woman give to this all-important subject, so vital to their life-long happiness, the consideration it requires, we should not so often meet with men broken in spirit memento mori legibly written on their countenances; with women prematurely old unloving wives, careless husbands. Meditate long before you assume ties to endure to your life's end, mayhaps to eternity.
'Nunc aut nunquam, Recuperare aut mori', were the watchwords of his desperate adventure: "Freedom for fatherland and conscience" was the device which was to draw thousands to his standard. On the western wolds of Frisia, he surprised the castle of Wedde, a residence of the absent Aremberg, stadholder of the province. Thence he advanced to Appingadam, or Dam, on the tide waters of the Dollart.
And the hundred pink and white villages, the jade and amethyst of the near and far islands, the smiling terraces above the city, the ruined temples, the grim giant ash-heap of Vesuvius! "That is it," said Merrihew, whose flights of rhetoric were most simplified. "Vedi Napoli e poi mori!" replied Hillard. "Hold on," exclaimed Merrihew. "Pass it out slowly. What's that mean?" "See Naples and die."
Perhaps it is as well for us selfish and self-satisfied mortals to possess a memento mori close at hand in a spot so teeming with the joy of life; yet somehow the first sight of that mass of broken headland and the dark ominous fissure in the hill-side, flung across the sunlit scene, is apt to send a slight shiver through the frame of the beholder.
Here I am shut up in this dreary house, which reminds me of the descriptions of that doleful retreat for sinners in Normandy, where the inmates pray eleven hours a day, dig their own graves every evening, and if they chance to meet one another, salute each other with 'Memento mori! Ugh! if there remains one latent spark of chivalry in your soul, I beseech you be merciful!
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