I think on death as the apparent end of the illusions that encompass us. They all have a sudden and unexpected end, that challenges any faith we have pinned to their worth.

Factory windows are always brokenOther windows are let alone.No one throws through the chapel-windowThe bitter, snarling, derisive stone.

They tried to get me-I got them first! (suicide note)

Authors and uncaptured criminals are the only people free from routine.

You can't crush ideas by suppressing them. You can only crush them by ignoring them.

My life is unjust, but I can strive for justice. My life is unkind, but I can vote for kindness.

Life is a loom, weaving illusion.