Tag Archives: dying

timor mortis conturbat me

These are the days of dying: Christopher Hitchens, Vaclav Havel, Kim Jong Il. Famous people, of whom I know nothing. Closer to home, the Saab marque died; we have had Saabs since we first married, and we still have two … Continue reading

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comes to all

The bloke next door is dying, in hospital, of cancer. Apparently he’s doing so rather grouchily.  This seems understandable; who would want to go, after all, especially when it seems inconceivable that you could have done everything you wanted to … Continue reading

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