Words from Robert Ingersoll - 2

Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of a wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustling of a wing. He who sleeps here when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, "I am better now." Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas and tears and fears that these dear words are true of all the countless dead.

Elegy at the Funeral of Ebon C. Ingersoll

The idea of immortality, which like a sea ebbs and flows in the human heart, beating against the sands and rocks of time and fate, was not born to any book, nor to any religion, nor of any creed. It was born of human affection, and it will continue to ebb and flow beneath the mists and clouds of doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death.

The Ghosts