The sea was angry that day my friend, like an old man trying to send back soup at a deli.

If there wasn't death, I think you couldn't go on.

I only asked my friends to be friendly and polite, I found them indifferent and censorious; The one I left to silence, the other to reproach: God send me over all such friends victorious.

The world is come upon me, I used to keep it a long way off, But now I have been run over and I am in the hands of the hospital staff.

all tamed animals are nervous, we have given them reason to be, not only by cruelty but by our love too, that presses upon them. They have not been able to be entirely indifferent to this and untouched by it.

Death's not a separation or alteration or parting; it's just a one-handled door.

Not Waving but Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.