Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.

Death belongs to life as birth does The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down.

Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it.

Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.

Life, like a child, laughs, shaking its rattle of death as it runs.

Life and death are too resolute, too implacable to be accidental.