Perhaps passing through the gates of death is like passing quietly through the gate in a pasture fence. On the other side, you keep walking, without the need to look back. No shock, no drama, just the lifting of a plank or two in a simple wooden gate in a clearing. Neither pain, nor floods of light, nor great voices, but just the silent crossing of a meadow. -- Mark Helprin, A Soldier Of The Great War --

And the wild regrets and the bloody sweats. None knew so well as I: That he who lives more lives than one, More deaths than one shall die. -- Oscar Wilde --

Death--the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening. -- Walter Scott --