The riders in a race do not stop sh

The riders in a race do not stop short when they reach the goal. There is a little finishing canter before coming to a standstill. There is time to hear the kind voice of friends, and to say to oneself: the work is done. But just as one says that, the answer comes: the race is over, but the work never is done while the power to work remains. The canter that brings you to a standstill need not be only coming to rest; it cannot be while you still live. But to live is to function, that is all there is in living. So I end with a land from a Latin poet who uttered the message more than fifteen hundred years ago: “death plucks my ears and says: Live, I am coming”.