The Secret of Death Lies in the Heart of Life

From The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran:

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. ...
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

"Beautiful Evening"/"Beau Soir"

“Beau Soir”
by Paul Bourget

Lorsque au soleil couchant les rivières sont roses,
Et qu’un tiède frisson court sur les champs de blé,
Un conseil d’être heureux semble sortir des choses
Et monter vers le coeur troublé.

Un conseil de goûter le charme d’être au monde
Cependant qu’on est jeune et que le soir est beau,
Car nous nous en allons, comme s’en va cette onde:
Elle à la mer, nous au tombeau.

"Beautiful Evening"

by Paul Bourget

When at sunset the rivers are rose-tinted

And a warm breeze shivers across the wheat fields,

A suggestion to be happy seems to emanate from all things

And rises towards the restless heart.

A suggestion to savor the pleasure of being alive

While one is young and the evening is beautiful

For we shall go, as this wave goes:

It to the sea, we to the tomb.

Perchance to Dream...

"You are never too old to set another goal or dream a new dream."

--C. S. Lewis

Thinking Like a Mountain

"The cowman who cleans his range of wolves does not realize that he is taking over the wolf's job of trimming the herd to fit the range. He has not learned to think like a mountain. Hence we have dustbowls, and rivers washing the future into the sea."

--Aldo Leopold

"Starting as a low moan and moving up the scale to a full-throated contralto, a wolf's howl penetrated the darkness. Time stopped. I floated in a pool of blackness, alone with the moon and the soul-filling sound. My first wolf. The hair stands up on the back of my neck even now, as I relive the moment."

--Robert Bateman