To be honest, I’ve never really believed that I was born and shall die, though I’m ready to admit that everything else perishes. I see mortality all around, but I see it from the station of immortality. Here is the universal Registrar of Births and Deaths (from the Galaxy’s downwards), the changeless background against which all change becomes evident. But if I’m above all decay and alteration, that’s because I’m also below them. Indeed it’s not that I’m too exalted to die, but rather that I die every moment the deepest of all deaths, right down into the abyss of nonentity, so that even the most moribund of creatures is, beside me (or better, in me) abundantly alive. These aren’t words of comfort, or interesting speculation. Nothing could be more vivid, immediate, practical and handy than this brilliant Void which I am, and in which there is no room for death.

From The Face Game by Douglas Harding, page 91.