You went into the woods to live there.
I came from the woods to die here.
You made a living for living.
I am killing myself slowly in making my living.
You wished to face the essential facts of life.
I am struggling to solve the purposeless complexities of life.
When you come to die you never want to discover that you had not lived.
When I come to die I am sure to feel the pleasure of living afterwards.
(To henry David Thoreau on his exile to "Walden Pond" to live deliberately and discover himself)