All these eloquent quotes and here is my offering:

The "words" that had the greatest impact on me came from the song Tim McGraw sang when his father was diagnosed with the brain tumor that eventually killed him. The song was "Live like you were dying", and the words are great. Here they are:

He said I was in my early forties
with a lot of life before me
when a moment came that stopped me on a dime
and I spent most of the next days
looking at the x-rays
Talking bout the options
and talking bout sweet time
I asked him when it sank in
that this might really be the real end
how's it hit you when you get that kinda news
man what'd you do

and he said
I went sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named FuManchu
and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I'd been denying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.

He said I was finally the husband
that most the time I wasn't
and I became a friend a friend would like to have
and all the sudden going fishin
wasn't such an imposition
and I went three times that year I lost my dad
well I finally read the good book
and I took a good long hard look
at what I'd do if I could do it all again

and then
I went sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named FuManchu
and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I'd been denying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.

Like tomorrow was a gift and you got eternity to think about
what'd you do with it what did you do with it
what did I do with it
what would I do with it'

Sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named FuManchu
and then I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I watched an eagle as it was flying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.

The other words that ring in my head when I need strength are the ones that were whispered to me, in the dark, by my then 12 year old daughter the night I came home from the hospital. She wanted to sleep with me and she lay there and asked, "Mom, are you going to die"? The desperate need for her to hear me say "no, I'm not" makes me remember how difficult it was to resist the temptation to tell her just that. I found the strength to tell her that I wasn't planning on dying and would do everything I could to stay with her, but that I couldn't promise her that. It took great strength to tell her that.