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

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

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.

A punishment to some, to some a gift, and to many a favor.

A punishment to some, to some a gift, and to many a favor.

I never think he is quite ready for another world who is altogether weary of this.

I never think he is quite ready for another world who is altogether weary of this.

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.

If there were dreams to sell, what would you buy?

If there were dreams to sell, what would you buy?

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.

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.