All live to die, and rise to fall.

Mr. Asher, you can resist who you are for only so long. Finally, you just decide to go with fate.

You stars that reigned at my nativity, / Whose influence hath allotted death and hell, / Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist, / Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud.

Above our life we love a steadfast friend.

That is a dream also; only he has remained asleep, while you have awakened; and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?

I think quite often a fate worse than death is life - for lots of people.