Death. It's not always the easy topic.
When i was young and small, i used to think how does it feels like when i dies. I covered myself with my big blanket, so that i can't see, hear, or keep in touch with the outer world, and empty my mind, as if my presence is insubstantial, that i'm not existing, but i still don't quite get that feeling.
Was i a little bit weird for thinking about this megatheme by the age of 8?? i wonder?? How will death come and get me?? How am i going to die?? When am i going to die?? Where am i going to after my death?? Going back into the green?? Moving on into the realms of spirits??
As confused as my weird mind, i came up with the ques and ask my dad. How is death like?? I remembered i didn't get satisfying answers that answered my uncertainties. i broke down, i cried fearfully, that i don't where i'll move on when i can't think, can't hear, can't breath, can't feel, can't see, and cease to exist.
Till now i'm still so sensitive with this mysterious thing that grasped me up till now. Death, not fearful at all i think now. What i fear now is the simple disconnection that will happen when i dies from everyone i knew, and everything that i love.
But at least up until now i am sure of one thing, that i know where i'll go when i moved on.
To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?
All that live must die, passing through nature to eternity.
Every man must do two things alone; he must do his own believing and his own dying.
Those who have lived a good life do not fear death, but meet it calmly, and even long for it in the face of great suffering. But those who do not have a peaceful conscience, dread death as though life means nothing but physical torment. The challenge is to live our life so that we will be prepared for death when it comes.
The hour of departure has arrived and we go our ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows.
When a great man dies, for years the light he leaves behind him, lies on the paths of men.
If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.
Know one knows whether death, which people fear to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good.
For the sword outwears its sheath, and the soul wears out the breast. And the heart must pause to breathe, and love itself have rest.
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
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