When the hour sounds and death knocks at the door, nothing in the world can keep it out. Not priest, nor prince, nor peasant can ever retard the hour of death.
Grim death is ever at man's heels.
It is closer to him than his shadow. A sudden shadow falls upon the house and, prowling with padded feet and walking with stealthy steps, Astovidhotu, the deadly bone-divider, comes lurking in every corner of the house. He pounces upon his unfortunate victim, unaware of his impending doom, and carries him away from his happy household. Let me not forget that my present life is a prelude to the future life and that it is a pilgrimage of short duration to a higher life, soon to begin. Let me not in my ignorance and intoxication of the pride of youth, remain encircled in the heat of passion and enchained in the bond of desires, and forget the transitoriness and death of the body.