“The man who decided to die on 12th hour,dies on 11th hour...”
“The man that decided to change on the 12th hours died at the 11th.”
“Hours fly...Flowers die.”
“Souls grow on bones but die beneath bankers' hours...”
“... I started to die 36 hours before I was born, so dying was a way of life for me.”
“Who is it who decides that one man should live and another should die? My life wasn't worth any more than his, but he's the one who's buried, while I get to enjoy at least a few more hours above the ground. Is it chance, random and cruel, or is there some purpose or pattern to all this, even if it lies beyond our ken?”