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Modern thought has transferred the spectral character of Death to the notion of time itself. Time has become Death triumphant over all.

Death is a commingling of eternity with time; in the death of a good man, eternity is seen looking through time.

Death is inevitable, but Life - that's the tricky bit where things happen.

Well, life is dark, isn't it? Mostly, it's dreadful. At the same time, death is funny too. I mean, look at the fuss we make of it.

We are both disturbed and fascinated by visions of bleak futures, predictions of what might come if we as a society aren't careful.

To me, death is dark, pain, grief.

The future is hidden by a dark impenetrable veil, and yet we struggle to pierce through it.

When you get just a complete sense of blackness or void ahead of you, that somehow the future looks an impossible place to be, and the direction you are going seems to have no purpose, there is this word despair which is a very awful thing to feel.

Suffering, it turns out, demands profound imagination. A new future has to be conjured up because the old future isn't there anymore.

When all else is lost, the future still remains.