Monday, September 21, 2015


[N]ow, weak, short of breath, my once-firm muscles melted away by cancer, I find my thoughts, increasingly, not on the supernatural or spiritual, but on what is meant by living a good and worthwhile life — achieving a sense of peace within oneself. I find my thoughts drifting to the Sabbath, the day of rest, the seventh day of the week, and perhaps the seventh day of one’s life as well, when one can feel that one’s work is done, and one may, in good conscience, rest.

--Oliver Sacks

He went gentle into that good night.
In old age he did not burn and rave at close of day
He did not rage against the dying of the light
He went gentle into that good night.

So long, Dr. Sacks.

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