What is death? It is the glass of life broken into a
thousand pieces, where the soul disperses like
perfume from a flask, into the silence of the eternal
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home. / Tecumseh
And this for you, my dear, dead family.
Sweet and bitter memories of you
in a shoe box. Rough art, but true,
with love and honour in my heart.