Flowers grow out of my grave. .

I was floating above my bed,
Like a body in a river, in car.
And the only sound in my head
was a dying cricket in a jar.
And I saw little beams of light
come into the bedroom,
from underneath the door.
And they crawled under my sheets,
and they came out of every single pore.

The Deathly Hallows

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

- Albus Dumbledore

Music should humbly seek to please;

within these limits great beauty may perhaps be found.

Sleep, those little slices of death. .

This basically means: It's three in the morning, get the fuck to sleep!

Pradise

"I have always imagined that Paradise will be some kind of library."
 - Jorge Luis Borges