Isaac Marion Quotes

Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.

Death is such a strange thing. One minute you're here and then just gone. You'd think there would be an anteroom, a place where you could be visited before you go.

This season is a lot funnier, not as dark, mainly because, well, she has accepted the fact that she is dead. She knows she cannot go back to where she was when she was alive.

Dying is a wild night and a new road.

Death may simply be an alteration in consciousness, a transition for continued life in a nonmaterial form.

That last day does not bring extinction to us, but change of place.

In working with those who are dying, I offer another human being a spacious environment with my mind in which they can die as they need to die. I have no right to define how another person should die. I'm just there to help them transition, however they need to do it.

If we can understand that death is not the end but is really a transition into the next life, the great part of life, that frees us up into receiving God's courage and his help.

The spring, summer, is quite a hectic time for people in their lives, but then it comes to autumn, and to winter, and you can't but help think back to the year that was, and then hopefully looking forward to the year that is approaching.

I love winter. It's a beautiful time, but also a melancholic time, a reflective time, and I'd come to a point in my life where I felt I had to make certain decisions about my career.

I don't fear death because I believe it is a transition. Our souls can't be destroyed. I know we are going to live in another life.

First snow-falling-on the half-finished bridge.

End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path... One that we all must take.

The moment in which the spirit meets death is perhaps like the moment in which it is embraced in sleep. I suppose it never happened to any one to be conscious of the immediate transition from the waking to the sleeping state.

We loiter in winter while it is already spring.

Perhaps passing through the gates of death is like passing quietly through the gate in a pasture fence. On the other side, you keep walking, without the need to look back. No shock, no drama, just the lifting of a plank or two in a simple wooden gate in a clearing. Neither pain, nor floods of light, nor great voices, but just the silent crossing of a meadow.

Winter isn't forever. Winter is always followed by spring. And it's how to take advantage of whatever season you're in.

Be ahead of all farewells as if they were behind you, like the winter that is just departing.

Dying is like diving into a deep lake on a hot day. There's the shock of that sharp, cold change, the pain of it for a second, and then accepting is a swim in reality. But after so many times, even the shock wears off.

Dying is so simple. A fleeting moment of suffering. In the blink of an eye you are over the threshold, into another world. No more pain, no more fears. You sleep so well there. Dying is like rubbing snow together, setting fire to a whole winter of cold and ice.

You can fix it as soon as you get up - you brush and use mouthwash - but there’s something about knowing you woke up with hot-mothball mouth that makes you feel old. I think God designed our mouths to die first to help us slowly transition to the grave.

Other seasons come abruptly but ask so little when they do. Winter is the only one that has to be relearned.

Dance with me, Death, I am ready.