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 say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as read more

We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at read more

To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at the proper time, with a clear head and with joyfulness, consummated in the midst of children and witnesses: so that an actual leave-taking is possible while he who is leaving is still there.

Men fear death, as if unquestionably the greatest evil, and yet no man knows that it may not be the read more

Men fear death, as if unquestionably the greatest evil, and yet no man knows that it may not be the greatest good.

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.

I know not what others may choose but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.

I know not what others may choose but, as for me, give me liberty or give me death.

If man were immortal he could be perfectly sure of seeing the day when everything in which he had trusted read more

If man were immortal he could be perfectly sure of seeing the day when everything in which he had trusted should betray his trust, and, in short, of coming eventually to hopeless misery. He would break down, at last, as every good fortune, as every dynasty, as every civilization does. In place of this we have death.

If we don't know life, how can we know death?

If we don't know life, how can we know death?