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After that I could never pass a dead man without stopping to gaze on his face, stripped by death of that earthly patina which masks the living soul. And I would ask, who were you? Where was your home? Who is mourning for you now?

I lived for nearly seven years with the awareness that death was my everyday companion.

I saw the dead without really seeing them.

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.

Death is very mysterious to us. One moment someone is there with us, and the next moment they're not.

I guess I don't believe that death is the end.

As a neurosurgeon, I did not believe in the phenomenon of near-death experiences.

It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight.

Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.