Death is but crssing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still.
   For they must needs be present, that love and live in that whch is omnipresent.
   In this divine glass they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure.
   This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.

William Penn, from More Fruits of Solitude