(no subject)

[dodont]

Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two
eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry
aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the
voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in
the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the
rustle of a wing.

He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of
death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath,
"I am better now." Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas,
of fears and tears, that these dear words are true of all the
countless dead.

--R.G. Ingersoll, Tribute to E.C. Ingersoll, May 31, 1879