Some where along the line the old dirt road i swore by became cold concrete Formed with Tar And Taxes, there was no way to avoid hitting it. And once I did the dust I used to Leave behind all but disappeared.
Rosencrantz: Do you think Death could possibly be a boat?
Guildenstern: No, no, no… Death is “not.” Death isn’t. Take my meaning? Death is the ultimate negative. Not-being. You can’t not be on a boat.
Rosencrantz: I’ve frequently not been on boats.
Guildenstern: No, no… What you’ve been is not on boats.