And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well. (#95)

Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily.
Every day when one’s body and mind are at peace, one should
meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and
swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into
the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken
to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs,
dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one’s
master. And every day without fail one should consider himself
as dead.

To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious!

By daily dying, I have come to be.

One must live as if it would be forever, and as if one might die each moment. Always both at once.

Death can be more exciting than life.

...the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.

If we lived for ever, what you say would be true. But we have to die, we have to leave life presently. Injustice and greed would be the real thing if we lived for ever. As it is, we must hold to other things, because Death is coming. I love death - not morbidly, but because He explains. He shows me the emptiness of Money. Death and Money are the eternal foes. Not Death and Life. . . . Death destroys a man: the idea of Death saves him. Behind the coffins and the skeletons that stay the vulgar mind lies something so immense that all that is great in us responds to it. Men of the world may recoil from the charnel-house that they will one day enter, but Love knows better. Death is his foe, but his peer, and in their age-long struggle the thews of Love have been strengthened, and his vision cleared, until there is no one who can stand against him.

The confrontation with death — and the reprieve from it — makes everything look so precious, so sacred, so beautiful that I feel more strongly than ever the impulse to love it, to embrace it, and to let myself be overwhelmed by it. . . . I wonder if we could love passionately, if ecstasy would be possible at all, if we knew we'd never die.

I want to be thoroughly used up when I die for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake.

But death is extraordinarily like life when we know how to live. You cannot live without dying. You cannot live if you do not die psychologically every minute. This is not an intellectual paradox. To live completely, wholly, every day as if it were a new loveliness, there must be dying to everything of yesterday, otherwise you live mechanically, and a mechanical mind can never know what love is or what freedom is.

Verily, love is death, and death is life to come.

Live your life as if you know you are going to die tomorrow, but plan your life as if you'll live forever.

Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous possessive love that grabs at what it can.