Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable read more

Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.

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.

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 don't have no fear of death. My only fear is coming back reincarnated.

I don't have no fear of death. My only fear is coming back reincarnated.

Her cabin'd ample spirit,
It fluttered and fail'd for breath;
Tonight it doth inherit
read more

Her cabin'd ample spirit,
It fluttered and fail'd for breath;
Tonight it doth inherit
The vasty hall of death.

Men fear Death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that
natural fear in children is read more

Men fear Death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that
natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the
other.

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.

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.

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls
a butterfly.

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls
a butterfly.