I don't know if it be a peculiarity in me, but I am seldom otherwise than happy while watching in the chamber of death, should no frenzied or despairing mourner share the duty with me. I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break; and I feel and assurance of the endless and shadowless hereafter - the Eternity they have entered - where life is boundless in its duration, and love in its sympathy, and joy in its fulness.

She's fainted, or dead,' I thought: 'so much the better. Far better that she should be dead, than lingering a burden and a misery-maker to all about her.

The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

In the chamber of death... I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break, and I feel an assurance of the endless and shadow less hereafter-the Eternity they have entered-where life is boundless in its duration, and love in its sympathy, and joy in its fullness... One might doubt in seasons of cold reflection; but not then in the presence of her corpse. It asserted its own tranquility, which seemed a pledge of equal quiet to its former inhabitant.

I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break, and I feel an assurance of the endless and shadowless hereafter—the Eternity they have entered—where life is boundless in its duration, and love in its sympathy, and joy in its fulness.

For what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags! In every cloud, in every tree - filling the air at nights, and caught by glimpses in every object, by day I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men, and women - my own features - mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

And my heart aches, in hopeless pain Exhausted with repinings vain, That I shall greet them ne'er again!

Think about the comfortable feeling you have as you open your front door. That's but a hint of what we'll feel some day on arriving at the place our Father has lovingly and personally prepared for us in heaven. We will finally - and permanently - be 'at home' in a way that defies description.

Overheard at a gravesite: "And they all said 'I'm sorry for your loss,' as if you were someone who could ever be taken from me."

Man is the only animal who enjoys the consolation of believing in a next life; all other animals enjoy the consolation of not worrying about it.

The dead will only be dead if you stop remembering them.

Heaven must be very beautiful, of course, the Bible says so — but, Anne, it won't be what I've been used to.