No matter how vital experience might be while you lived it, no sooner was it ended and dead than it became as lifeless as the piles of dry dust in a school history book.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
When my parents died, it became clear to me that there was an end in sight. Death was never a real thing to me. And then when that happened I realized I only have so many years left, if I'm lucky.
I lived for nearly seven years with the awareness that death was my everyday companion.
When I was very young I was sort of floored by the fact that my mother and my father and everyone I knew was going to die one day, and myself too. I had a sort of a philosophical crisis. I couldn't believe that we were mortal.
Having a memoir and a retrospective of your work running almost simultaneously when you're still alive does feel a bit posthumous.
I had spent so much time studying literature at Stanford and the history of medicine at Cambridge in an attempt to better understand the particularities of death, only to come away feeling like they were still unknowable to me.
The experiences associated with death were seen as visits to important dimensions of reality that deserved to be experienced, studied, and carefully mapped.
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
It was the closest to purgatory that I've ever experienced while I've been living.
I think the mythology of death really ran away with me when I was very young.
I think most of us who live into our 50s have had a few experiences with death. You know, we see people we know start to die. We realize it's getting closer and closer for us.
No opposing quotes found.