The rare opportunity to exist, no matter how brief, is worth the pain left in the wake of its disappearance.

I am not ready to die,But I am learning to trust deathAs I have trusted life.I am movingToward a new freedom

This will be Great Mam's last spring. Her last June apples. Her last fresh roasting ears from the garden.

Death descended like a theatrical storm over the Drakensberg Mountains, stranding me while it ran its course.

Death can come slow. Death can come quick. If you've got one last breath, you better make the most of it.

In times such as these, life often begs us to seek answers when in reality there are only questions available.

I'm fine with death. I've dealt out more than my share. It's the act of dyin' that bothers me.

Death wasn't a movie where the pretty star faded away with a touch of pale makeup and every hair in place.

I know it is coming, and I do not fear it, because I believe there is nothing on the other side of death to fea

Death. It is a strange stalker, one that we spend our whole lives running from, some more successful than others.

It is necessary to meditate early, and often, on the art of dying to succeed later in doing it properly just once.

The fear of death is why we build cathedrals, have children, declare war, and watch cat videos online at three a.m.

Such is true joy’s absolute certainty,Its slow lit fuse that burns holesIn the shabby shroud of death forever.

It was one of those rare times when remembering the dead was more inmportant than tending to the needs of the living.

oh. she heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)