“I'll be damned if death wears my sadness as glad rags. ”

“I'll be darned!" said Douglas. "I never thought of that. That's brilliant! It's true. Old people never were children!""And it's kind of sad," said Tom, sitting still."There's nothing we can do to help them.”

“One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, "We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I'll make one. I'll make a voice like all of time and all of the fog that ever was; I'll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I'll make a sound that's so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and hearths will seem warmer, and being inside will seem better to all who hear it in the distant towns. I'll make me a sound and an apparatus and they'll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life."The Fog Horn blew.”

“It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason.”

“Is Death important? No. Everything that happens before death is what counts.”

“Death loves death, not life. Dying people love to know that others die with them; it is a comfort to learn you are not alone in the kiln, in the grave.”

“Somewherein him, a shadow turned mournfully over. You had to run with anightlike thisso the sadness could not hurt.”