If dead things love, if earth and water distinguish friends from enemies, I should like to possess their love. I should like the green earth not to feel my step as a heavy burden. I should like her to forgive that she for my sake is wounded by plough and harrow, and willingly to open for my dead body.
Selma LagerlöfFor what is man's soul but a flame? It flickers in and around the body of a man as does the flame around the rough log.
Selma Lagerlöf