"Illness was almost completely unknown among them, although death existed. But their old people died peacefully, as though falling asleep, surrounded by people taking leave of them, blessing those staying behind, smiling at them, and receiving their bright smiles in return. I never witnessed any sorrow or tears on these occasions - only love that reached the point of rapture, a sort of calm, contemplative rapture of fulfillment.
One might have thought they maintained contact with their people after death, that the earthly link wasn't severed by it. They seemed puzzled when I asked them about eternal life, for apparently it was beyond all possible doubt to them. They didn't have any temples; instead they had a sort of tangible, live, and constant communication with the Universal Whole. They had no faith, but had instead a firm knowledge that when their earthly happiness was filled to the limit, there would come for the living and the dead a day of even closer communion with the Universal Whole. They waited for that day with joy, but without impatience, without longing, as though they had a foreknowledge of it that they shared with one another, in their hearts."