Death is someone you see very clearly with eyes in the center of your heart: eyes that see not by reacting to light but by reacting to a kind of a chill from within the marrow of your own life.
I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute.
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Land and sea weakness and decline are great separators but death is the great divorcer for ever.
