I'm not on the run from anything and I'm not at all clear about what I'm running towards. But as some great writer put it I want to be certain that when I arrive at death I'm totally exhausted.

Your body must become familiar with its death - in all its possible forms and degrees - as a self-evident imminent and emotionally neutral step on the way towards the goal you have found worthy of your life.

Death is with you all the time you get deeper in it as you move towards it but it's not unfamiliar to you. It's always been there so what becomes unfamiliar to you when you pass away from the moment is really life.

I am able to follow my own death step by step. Now I move softly towards the end.

We get into the habit of living before acquiring the habit of thinking. In that race which daily hastens us towards death the body maintains its irreparable lead.

Even at our birth death does but stand aside a little. And every day he looks towards us and muses somewhat to himself whether that day or the next he will draw nigh.

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

I feel very warm towards Mum and Dad for giving us the independence they did. My childhood and the fact we didn't have a TV gave me a boundless imagination.

I sort of always had an inkling towards some kind of an art form. I grew up in a very small town and I just figure-skated. My dad played hockey and I was surrounded by sports but it wasn't quite doing it for me. I wasn't totally fulfilled and I did a lot of skating.

An angry father is most cruel towards himself.