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I'm not a fan of people romanticizing their loved ones in death.

Death was like love, a romantic escape.

Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it.

Many luckless people imagine that romance is dead: some, overcivilised, fondly suppose that there never was romance: a poet tells us that romance is unrecognised though really present: but scientists can meet him daily, walking at large and undisguised in the world.

Death ends a life, not a relationship.

Death is an endless night so awful to contemplate that it can make us love life and value it with such passion that it may be the ultimate cause of all joy and all art.

Death in its natural state can be very beautiful. When you think about a body that's died of natural causes - family taking care of it - all of that is very beautiful.

I think that the romantic impulse is in all of us and that sometimes we live it for a short time, but it's not part of a sensible way of living. It's a heroic path and it generally ends dangerously.

At the heart of all romanticism is suffering.

I think I'll always be a hopeless romantic.