The Hour of Death waits for no order. Death does not even come from the front. It is ever pressing on from behind. All men know of Death, but they do not expect it of a sudden, and it comes upon them unawares. So, though the dry flats extend far out, soon the tide comes and floods the beach.

There is something refreshingly ironic about people lying on the beach contracting skin cancer in an attempt to acquire a purely illusory appearance of good health, while germ-laden medical waste washes up on the sand all around them. (entitled Surf's Down Forever, p. 207)

Ways to combat stress, such as playing golf before a conference call or taking a break on the beach during inventory, are essential.