“IfIf your hand came, dead in the dead of night,And touched my forehead, waking me to seeYou standing dead there in the dead of night,I who fear ghosts would have no fear at all.I'd greet you with the tenderest helloAnd you would smile, though sad. And then you'd go.There would be nothing deathly in your deathFor your love always was the laughing sortThat quickened life and would not die with death.And when you'd gone, I would not want to weep -- That loving gaiety would still be thereFilling with its own peace the quickened air.”

“Erik, Erik! I saved your life! Remember? You were scentenced to death! But for me you would be dead by now. ”

“And when you'd finished running you'd be thousands of miles away from people who love you and your problem would still be there except you'd have nobody to help you.”

“If death itself were to die, would it have a ghost, and would the ghost of death visit the dead in the guise of someone alive, if only to fright them from any temptation to return?”

“... So this was how it was to be, now: I would do my best to live in the quick world, but the ghosts of the dead would be ever at hand.”

“Do you see that tree? It is dead but it still sways in the wind with the others. I think it would be like that with me. That if I died I would still be part of life in one way or another.”