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.

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its read more

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

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

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

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.

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and read more

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.

A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.

A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.

It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.

It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft read more

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft like that of wool, or a young
woman, and may she protect thee from the depths of destruction.
Rise above him, O Earth, do not press painfully on him, give him
good things, give him consolation, as a mother covers her child
with her cloth, cover thou him.

We must all die!
All leave ourselves, it matters not where, when,
Nor how, so we die read more

We must all die!
All leave ourselves, it matters not where, when,
Nor how, so we die well; and can that man that does so
Need lamentation for him?