No matter how low the odds are of dying in a car crash, or of cardiac arrest, the odds of dying from something are 100 percent.

Death may be the only escape from your bad faith you get. Only when you shed your life, you shed the responsibilities the titles and the badges you pinned to yourself, and live in true freedom

Death doesn’t give life meaning, and I’m not sure what asshole gave it the credit, but it’s you who gives your life meaning. Immortality wouldn’t be as terrible as you were told. People will keep making new things, and it is your duty, at the age of 5,001 to still give a shit to try them. If you find yourself as the recipient of the gift of a perma-young body, it is your responsibility to keep your spirit young as well.

If you find yourself the recipient of the less impressive, but still sizable fortune of 81 years, think of why that should be any different than any of the 81 year chunks of immortality.

Live as if you’ll live forever until your vessel breaks and creaks kapoots from weather and wear. Until the pain of life is more than what you are fighting for. And ask, and you will receive death, and you’ll be thankful. Because there is wind inside you that never stops blowing, trapped in something that was doomed run aground.