Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.

Decline is also a form of voluptuousness, just like growth. Autumn is just as sensual as springtime. There is as much greatness in dying as in procreation.

You that in far-off countries of the sky can dwell secure, look back upon me here; for I am weary of this frail world's decay.

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?
Or sells eternity to get a toy?
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?
Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?

When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony. [Julius Caesar]

Done to death by slanderous tongues