Is it harder to live for something/someone, or to die for it/them?
Which is more noble?
I believe that it's harder to live, because dying leaves no room for growth or change, or even hope... Life is struggle... it's harsh, sometimes our paths seem to double back on themselves and we wind up in the same place we left, and we feel like nothing changed, even though we ourselves have in fact been translated into something more than we were before.... through the tough times we are shaped, the rough lines of our pencil-sketch former selves erased away as the ink begins to flow into our veins, turning us into formidable creations, not so easily disposed of.... We become less and less ignorant, and therefore harder to ignore....
We endure, and we become more than a drawing; we are life, truth burning through artifice and designer skins to confound those who try to mystify us and strong arm us into submission....