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My father was a film-maker. He always said he wanted to go like Humphrey Jennings, the legendary director who stepped backwards over a cliff while framing a better shot.
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Cursed is the man who dies, but the evil done by him survives.
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Often in winter the end of the day is like the final metaphor in a poem celebrating death: there is no way out.
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So die as though your funeral Ushered you through the doors that led Into a stately banquet hall Where heroes banqueted.
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God never can use any man very much till he has grace enough to forget himself entirely while doing God's work; for He will not give His glory to another nor share with the most valued instrument the praise that belongs to Jesus Christ alone.
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Because it appears to me a hazardous thing to exchange my soul for my shadow.
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Beware that you do not lose the substance by grasping at the shadow.
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Even now, sometimes on street corners... when I meet someone, I see your shadow. I'm sure that even now, you're still wearing that man's cologne... so you can sleep, even alone...
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This visible world is a trace of that invisible one and the former follows the latter like a shadow.
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Your nightmares follow you like a shadow, forever.
