“Days to come stand in front of uslike a row of lighted candles—golden, warm, and vivid candles. Days gone by fall behind us,a gloomy line of snuffed-out candles;the nearest are smoking still,cold, melted, and bent. I don’t want to look at them: their shape saddens me,and it saddens me to remember their original light.I look ahead at my lighted candles. I don’t want to turn for fear of seeing, terrified,how quickly that dark line gets longer,how quickly the snuffed-out candles proliferate.”