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Death is always on the way,
But the fact that you don't know when it will arrive
Seems to add to the infiniteness of life.
It is the terrible precision of limitation that we hate so much.
But because we don't know when we will die,
We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well.
Yet everything happens only a certain number of times,
And a very small number really.
How many more times will you remember as certain afternoon of your childhood,
An afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being
That you can't even conceive of your life without it?
Perhaps 4 or 5 times more.
How many more times will you watch the full moon rise?
Perhaps 20.
Perhaps not even that.
How many more times will you gaze into the eyes of your one
true love for so long that the two of you become one?
Perhaps only once more.
And yet it all seems limitless...
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If the people we love are stolen from us
The way to have them live on
Is to never stop loving them.
Buildings burn
People die
But real love is forever.
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