God is growing bitter, He envies man his mortality.

God is becoming bitter, he envies man his mortality.

There is small merit in mocking goodness, tweaking charity; it is much more comic to deprive people of their petty little existence for no reason at all, for a lark.

Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short , but when we have had our fill of fruit, our swelter of heat, we said that we have had our day.

Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor.

The idea of death, the fear of it, haunts the human animal like nothing else; it is a mainspring of human activity - designed largely to avoid the fatality of death, to overcome it by denying in some way that it is the final destiny of man.