The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and read more

The death-change comes.
Death is another life. We bow our heads
At going out, we think, and enter straight
Another golden chamber of the king's
Larger than this we leave, and lovelier.
And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect,
The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves.
The will of God is all in all. He makes,
Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all.

Life is better than death, I believe, if only because it is less boring, and because it has fresh peaches read more

Life is better than death, I believe, if only because it is less boring, and because it has fresh peaches in it.

Boy, when you are dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has read more

Boy, when you are dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a god dam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you are dead? Nobody.

You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.You can close your eyes read more

You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived.You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,or you can be full of the love you shared.You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.You can remember her only that she is gone,or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back.Or you can do what she'd want:smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

He who died at Azan sends
This to comfort all this friends:
Faithful friends! It lies I read more

He who died at Azan sends
This to comfort all this friends:
Faithful friends! It lies I know
Pale and white and cold as snow;
And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"
Weeping at the feet and head.
I can see your falling tears,
I can hear your sighs and prayers;
Yet I smile and whisper this:
I am not the thing you kiss.
Cease your tears and let it lie;
It was mine--it is not I.

Madame, all stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that read more

Madame, all stories, if continued far enough, end in death, and he is no true-story teller who would keep that from you.

Tis after death that we measure men.

Tis after death that we measure men.

Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.

Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.

I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me read more

I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.