These lines from The Silmarillion really hit me the other day. It relates pretty well to death and impermanence in general.
"But of bliss and glad life there is little to be said, before it ends: as works fair and wonderful, while still they endure for eyes to see, are their own record, and only when they are in peril or broken forever do they pass into song."
"But of bliss and glad life there is little to be said, before it ends: as works fair and wonderful, while still they endure for eyes to see, are their own record, and only when they are in peril or broken forever do they pass into song."