Die with your boots on, charging injustice, reformative guns blazing!

Live longer; rest more; die with your slippers on.

We live short and die long.

The soul softly slips down death’s swept scape.

It’s easy to live; what takes a lot of work is to die.

We die when we despair, live again when we hope.

To live, to die, perhaps to wake — now there’s the hope.

The dead rest, in memory’s soft nest.

Live close to those who live; die next to those who die.

To cry, to why, to live, to die.

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