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.

A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.

A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.

Now comes the mystery.

Now comes the mystery.

If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you read more

If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?

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.

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious read more

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person.

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.

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

It is only the dead who do not return.

It is only the dead who do not return.