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.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I don't fear death so much as I fear its prologues: loneliness, decrepitude, pain, debilitation, depression, senility. After a few years of those, I imagine death presents like a holiday at the beach.
It's a weird feeling when you know you're going to die.
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 is very mysterious to us. One moment someone is there with us, and the next moment they're not.
Death has always had a prominent place in my mind. There are times when I think somebody might kill me.
Death can really absorb a person. Lik most people, I would find it pleasant not to have to go, but you just accept that it's more or less inevitable.
I don't fear death. I'm not obsessed with it the way everybody else seems to be.
I think about death most of the day, every day. We can't escape death, and choosing to ignore it only makes it more scary.
I've worked very hard to become comfortable with how death works and why it happens. I now know that death isn't out to get me.
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.