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.
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Die? I should say not, dear fellow. No Barrymore would allow such a conventional thing to happen to him.
Die? I should say not, dear fellow. No Barrymore would allow such a conventional thing to happen to him.
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts read more
So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.
If we don't know life, how can we know death?
If we don't know life, how can we know death?
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.
I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another read more
I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter.
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.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.
Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatever to do with read more
Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatever to do with it.
