Love is of that excellent nature, that it is esteemed by the best of men, and accepted from the meanest persons; what then is the affection of a Father!

We usually say of ancient persons, that they have already one foot in the grave, and the rest of their life is nothing else but the bringing of these feet together.

Vulgar and common persons, as they carry nothing out of this world, so they leave nothing in it: they receive no eminency in their birth, they acquire none in their life, they have none when they die, they leave none at their death.

The occasion of this sadness is expressed in a word, but must be considered in many more, as being the principal concernment both of the Text and Time.

The spoken word is man's physician in grief. For this alone has soothing charms for the soul.

If you have only one passion in life - football - and you pursue it to the exclusion of everything else, it becomes very dangerous. When you stop doing this activity it is as though you are dying. The death of that activity is a death in itself.

It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world.

Human beings are fascinating with religion and stories about not dying. Or dying and being brought back to life. I think it's just part of our make up.