I’m not personally obsessed with death. At a certain age, the light that you live in is inhabited by the shades – it ’tis.
I have begun to think of life as a series of ripples widening out from an original center.
It is always better
to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning.
For every one of us, living in this world
means waiting for our end. Let whoever can
win glory before death. When a warrior is gone,
that will be his best and only bulwark.
I want away to the house of death, to my father under the low, clay roof.
Is there life before death? That’s chalked upIn Ballymurphy. Competence with pain,Coherent miseries, a bite and a sup,We hug our little destiny again.