So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be.

No, this is no beginning. Then an end? End is a gloomy word.

A Late Walk - A Tree beside the wall stands bare, But a leaf that lingered brown, Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought, comes softly rattling down. I end not far from my going forth By picking the faded blue Of the last remaining aster flower to carry again to you.

But bid life seize the present? It lives less in the present Than in the future always, And less in both together Than in the past. The present Is too much for the senses, Too crowding, too confusing— Too present to imagine.

Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept and accept the end Of a love or a season?

The fact is, we need markers in life, whether we subscribe to a religion or not. And the major holidays, such as Christmas, serve to remind us of the turning world.

Be your own master, and look at things as a man, as a human being, as a citizen, as a mortal creature.

Mortality is the most romantic story ever told. Just one chance to do everything you should. Then, magically, you move on.

Focus on the quality of life. Add life to your years and then years will be added to your life.

The fear of death comes from limited awareness.

The intention to live as long as possible isn't one of the mind's best intentions, because quantity isn't the same as quality.

The problem with time is that we are always making it personal.