(no subject)
"Life was not a valuable gift, but death was. Life was a feverdream made up of joys embittered by sorrows, pleasure poisoned by pain; a dream that was a nightmare-confusion of spasdomic and fleeting delights, ecstasies, exultations, happinesses, interspersed with long-drawn miseries, griefs, perils, horrors, disappointments, defeats, humiliations, and despairs-the heaviest curse devisable by divine ingenuity; but death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; deah was man's best freind; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free."