Do not go gentle into that good night

Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

When faced with the possibility of death, no matter how inevitable it may seem, put up the fight of your life.  Use every trick in the book.  Make Death pay such a severe price for even casting a glimpse your direction.  For it is not the victories we tally to confirm a good life.  It is the brawl, the battles, and the scratch till-your-nails-fall-off-and-your-fingers-bleed-in-the-torn-asunder-eye-sockets-of-the-vanquished struggles that remind us of why we live and how a great life is defined.

For just once, make Death afraid he took this job.  Kick his ass and spit in his face. What's the worse he can do to you anyway?