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The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity.
The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity.
Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead. When Death claims the light of my brow No flowers of life read more
Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead. When Death claims the light of my brow No flowers of life will cheer me: instead You may give me my roses now!
But when the sun in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory's morning read more
But when the sun in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory's morning gate,
And walked in Paradise.
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.
It is only the dead who do not return.
It is only the dead who do not return.
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.
It's funny how most people love the dead, once you're dead your made for life.
It's funny how most people love the dead, once you're dead your made for life.
To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.
To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.
Death--the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening.
Death--the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening.
