The heart asks pleasure first
“The heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering, And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die.” Emily Dickinson
That joke isn’t funny anymore
“It was dark as I drove the point home and on cold leather seats well, it suddenly struck me I just might die with a smile on my face after all.” Morrissey