[In the green scheme of things, death becomes a vehicle for land conservation and saving the planet.] It is not enough to be a corpse anymore, ... Now, you have to be a politically correct corpse.

When we bury the old, we bury the known past, the past we imagine sometimes better than it was, but the past all the same, a portion of which is inhabited. Memory is the overwhelming theme, the eventual comfort.

Well the themes for me were and remain sex and love and grief and death - the things that make us and undo us, create and destroy, how we breed and disappear and the emotional context that surrounds these events.

The angel of death has been abroad throughout the land; you may almost hear the beating of his wings.

Developers many times take the best piece of land and build on it first but we saved the best for last. The property has spectacular views.

The land of my fathers. My fathers can have it.