Mourned at the graves in the European Cemetery in Entebbe. Saw the face of inevitability, not in my mortality, but again and again in the shameful decrepitude of my nation.
… When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay;
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate,
That Time will come and take my love away.
This thought is as a death, which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
– William Shakespeare; from Sonnet LXIV
zom.bie noun \ˈzäm-bē\
- : my past, my reality, my end
- : a mixed drink made of several kinds of rum, liqueur, and fruit juice