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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.
A man who won't die for something is not fit to live.
A man who won't die for something is not fit to live.
As men, we are all equal in the presence of death.
As men, we are all equal in the presence of death.
Life without a friend is death without a witness.
Life without a friend is death without a witness.
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the read more
Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
One might say, for example, that a patient has a kind of St Vitus's dance; a kind of dropsy; a read more
One might say, for example, that a patient has a kind of St Vitus's dance; a kind of dropsy; a kind of nerve fever; a kind of ague. One would never say, however (to end once and for all the confusion of these names) "He has St. Vitus's dance," "He has nerve fever," "He has dropsy," "He has ague," since there simply are not any fixed, unchanging diseases to be known by such names.
MUFFLED CADENCE
The sound of shot.
The roar of gun.
Thy will be done
blares the drum.
The sudden shock.
read more
MUFFLED CADENCE
The sound of shot.
The roar of gun.
Thy will be done
blares the drum.
The sudden shock.
The news farflung.
Thy will be done
beats the drum.
The hour of grief.
The darkened sun.
Thy will be done
rolls the drum.
The sound of shot.
The grave begun.
Thy will be done
mourns the drum.
**
by N Marshall Bertsch
(N Marshall Bertsch is a Republican who was profoundly
griefstricken by the assassination of John F Kennedy).
There's a thing that keeps surprising you about stormy old friends after they die; their silence.
There's a thing that keeps surprising you about stormy old friends after they die; their silence.
