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an old man’s body is nothing but a sack in which he carries aches and indignities.
a nice warm gravy of guilt.”
Another, more elegant, posits that the brain is performing a final global scan in an effort to find an experience comparable to dying.
“There is a folk tale that before birth, every human soul knows all the secrets of life and death and the universe. But then, just before birth, an angel leans down, puts his finger to the new baby’s lips, and whispers ‘Shhh.’”
They were well matched, at least in the short term; she was fiery iron, straight from the forge, and he—in his apartment filled with books—was the water in which she cooled herself.
The wind blows the gone-to-seed dandelion puff of his hair.
God’s grace is a pretty cool concept. It stays intact every time it’s not you.
Life’s a great thing, but if you live long enough, it wears out before it runs out.”
Life was a short shelf that came with bookends.
