Robert Bly: To live means to pick up particles of death
Ogden Nash: People expect old men to die

Raymond Chandler: You were sleeping the big sleep

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What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell.

 

Raymond Chandler (1888–1959), The Big Sleep

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"Sleep the big sleep" immediately reminded me of "il gran sonno" in Giovanni Verga's brief piece "Passato! (Ricordi)", which I deeply love, and which would be at home in this blog.

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