Death and the end of one's life are two very different things indeed.
At the end of your life, you're lucky if you die.
Over and over, we start our own tales, compose our own stories, whether our lives are short or long. Until at last all our beginnings come down to just one end, and the tale of who we are is done.
The proper ending for any story about people it seems to me, since life is now a polymer in which the Earth is wrapped so tightly, should be the same abbreviation, which I now write large because I feel like it, which is this one: ETC.
People ask me a lot like, "Hey, so when are you done with your tour?" Like when I die. That's when I'm done with my tour.
There is a two-fold solemnity which belongs to the dying hour-it is the winding up of life, and it is the commencement of eternity.
The nearer I approach death the more I feel like one who is in sight of land at last and is about to anchor in one's home port after a long voyage.
As the end approaches, there are no longer any images from memory - there are only words.
Is there not a certain satisfaction in the fact that natural limits are set to the life of the individual, so that at the conclusion it may appear as a work of art?
