“We each die countless little deaths on our way to the last. We die out of shame as humiliation. We perish from despair. And, of course, we die for love.”
“Okay, fine, we were married elsetime. Anyway, we died of whatever you die from, let’s say natural causes. But we were in love, so our souls keep finding each other in whatever forms our bodies take.”
“I think now, looking back, that we all die, little by little, as each of those we love departs before us.”
“What do we have to live for, but each other. What do we have to die for, but our love?”
“It's almost as if each instant is our last and first. We are always dying, and always reborn. And that is living.”
“Animals die, friends die, and I shall die, but one thing never dies, and that is the reputation we leave behind at our death.”