Breathe once like it was to be your last. Or try, and find that you cannot. You cannot possibly understand the finality; I know I have no such comprehension in me. My thinking is that life is not to live each day as if it were to be our last; even were we to have been mistakenly told that it were so, and then after that day had passed, we were given the good news that we would survive: how we would think of how we were glad that it were not the end, for there would have been things, always, that we forgot them, to do, or others we remembered, but had no hour for. Better that we live knowing that we have some time left, and then to understand that we will not always have this time. Better that we go and remember all those things we wish to try, and actually to do them. Now that this day is not our last; this is good news, to those who will hear it. There is even room for a second chance, if we need it.