My mother has a way with words that rivals Yogi Berra's. These “Mummy-isms” have afforded the whole family considerable amusement for years now, and I would love to compile all of them with their stories so we don't forget 'em. However, at the moment I only have time for her most recent gem.
We were talking about something pertaining to fire and brimstone, death and destruction, or politics (which is decidedly grimmer and more frightening). Mom took the view that all things must be endured here, and that we must look to Afterwards for comfort and hope. Her cheerful and optimistic comment: “Well, we'll all die someday, if we live long enough.” She didn't care to elaborate on what would happen to us if we did not hold out long enough.