The sensation of dying is sweet, sensuous, placid.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Death is a release from the impressions of the senses, and from desires that make us their puppets, and from the vagaries of the mind, and from the hard service of the flesh.
Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.
Those who have the strength and the love to sit with a dying patient in the silence that goes beyond words will know that this moment is neither frightening nor painful, but a peaceful cessation of the functioning of the body.
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.
Death is the only pure, beautiful conclusion of a great passion.
Death is present every day in our lives. It's not that I take pleasure in the morbid fascination of it, but it is a fact of life.
Death, the real simile for disease - for when we are ill, do we not always feel like we are dying, even if it's only a little? - remains, despite our secularism, the most metaphoricised phenomenon of all.
The thing is to appreciate the fragile wonder of it all, down to the last breath, down to the dying embers of consciousness.
It's a weird feeling when you know you're going to die.
I want to tell you what it was really like to think death is imminent, but I can't. It's a taste in your mouth. And an emptiness.