Chapter Twenty Four: A moment worth a life time

West: "Cemetery; Kesey Schwarz."

It was with empty hands that I found myself in the ghastly cemetery, where a sunny winter sun cast twisted shadows, and bare trees bent sadly over the parched and frozen grass, over the weathered gravestones. In cemeteries, no matter how many flowers there were, it was never spring. The gates around them I considered stupid, because those inside could not get out and those outside did not wish to enter. I could never bear to be buried together with people to whom I had not been introduced. Cemeteries were full of unrealized dreams, countless echoes of "I could have had" and "I should have been." Cemeteries were full of people the world could not do without, and it seems that for many the greatest desire was to read with empty eyes the epitaph, on which was inscribed the virtues acquired by death and of the retroactive effect.