If I die a violent death, as some fear and a few are plotting, I know that the violence will be in the thought and the action of the assassins, not in my dying.
But I was very, very lucky, and it was a wake up call as far as motorbikes are concerned. I never flirted with death on the bike, but now I’m totally convinced they’re death machines.
Sinful and forbidden pleasures are like poisoned bread they may satisfy appetite for the moment, but there is death in them at the end.
Death does not concern us, because as long as we exist, death is not here. And when it does come, we no longer exist.