death-and-dying

If death is necessity life is a choice

In a strange way, I envied the quality of Morrie's time even as I lamented its diminishing supply. Why did we bother with all the distractions we did?

To die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier.

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

A candle without a spark, a sky without a sun, the look people get when they cease to be people, start being bodies.

Life and death is a matter of destiny, just like day and night is the law of the universe. Chuang Tzu

I've adopted the guideline of Warren Buffett's partner, Charlie Munger, who says "I wanna know where I'll be when I die - so I never go there.

And do you know the story about Haydn__ head? They cut it away from the still-warm cadaver so some insane scientist could take apart the brain and pinpoint the location of musical genius. And the Einstein Story? He__ carefully written his will with instructions to cremate him. They followed his orders, but his disciple, ever loyal and devoted, refused to live without the master__ gaze on him. Before the cremation, he took the eyes of the cadaver and put them in a bottle of alcohol to keep them watching him until the moment he should die himself. That__ why I said that the crematory fire is the only way our bodies can escape them. It__ the only absolute death. And I don__ want any other. Jean-Marc, I want an absolute death.

This StoneHe went looking for a roadthat doesn't lead to death.He went looking for that roadand found it.It was a stone road.He walked that roadthat doesn't lead to death.He walked on it awhilebefore he stopped,having turned to stone.Now he stands there on that roadthat doesn't lead to deathnot going anywhere.He can't dance.from his eyes stones fall.The rainbow people pass himcrossing that road, long-legged, light-stepping,going from the Four Housesto the dancing in the Five Houses.They pick up his tears.This stone is a tearfrom his eye, this stonegiven me on the mountainby one who died before my birth,this stone, this stone.

Dreaming's shit, but dying's worse; and watching someone die, that comes somewhere between the two, I guess. It ain't good, but it's got to be better than the other thing, better than doing it yourself. Hasn't it?

The dead teach this great lesson, which we are loathe to learn: we too will die.

Christopher was wearing a suit and adorned make-up. As long as I had known him, he never wore a suit or make-up. The look of him defenseless to his appearance saddened me.

Die in a good way, obviously.

Obviously the raven with the unquenchable itch was at it again, playing tricks on the world and its creatures. Once by air, he thought, and now by water.

The price of coming from a small town is that everyone knows your story. Your book has been read, shelved, dusted, and re-read by everybody.

Death peeked around corners; it winked at her in the mirror then vanished; it hummed along with the radio and then faded away. It wheedled into her mind and her words, leaving a humid vapor around her heart and a thick fuzzy taste on her tongue.

Top question of the dying: "What made me sick?

When I die (body) please lay me on stage just as I am. Do not put on makeup and jewelries on me as I repented from doing them when alive. Lay me as I am, so family and friends will see how worthless this body is without the Spirit . Deceive no one with my body on my funeral day. If i do it not when alive, DO IT NOT WHEN AM NOT IN THIS BODY. THIS WORLD IS NOT MY HOME.