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Quote by Stewart Stafford

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Stewart Stafford

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“We may, indeed, say that the hour of death is uncertain, but when we say this we think of that hour as situated in a vague and remorse expanse of time; it does not occur to us that it can have any connexion with the day that has already dawned and can mean that death---or its first assault and partial possession of us, after which it will never leave hold of us again---may occur this very afternoon, so far from uncertain, this afternoon whose timetable, hour by hour, has been settled in advance.”

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Book:The Guermantes Way
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“She is here. And she comes to you, and she does not speak, and the others do not notice her, and she takes your hand, and you ready yourself to die, eyes open, aware that this is all an illusion, a last aroma cast up by the chemical stew that is your brain, which will soon cease to function, and there will be nothing, and you are ready, ready to die well, ready to die like a man, like a woman, like a human, for despite all else you have loved, you have loved your father and your mother and your brother and your sister and your son, and yes, your ex-wife, and you have loved the pretty girl, you have loved beyond yourself, and so you have courage, and you have dignity, and you have calmness in the face of terror, and awe, and the pretty girl holds your hand, and you contain her, and this book, and me writing it, and I too contain you, who may not yet even be born, you inside me inside you, though not in a creepy way, and so may you, may I, may we, so may all of us confront the end.”

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Book:How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia
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