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

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

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face read more

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape,
Shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night."

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.

What then remains, but that we still should cry
Not to be born, or being born to die.

What then remains, but that we still should cry
Not to be born, or being born to die.

Death is a fearful thing.

Death is a fearful thing.

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!

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious read more

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person.

Now comes the mystery.

Now comes the mystery.

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.