vorlon13

[The Valkyrie]

Vorls was one of the few people who could genuinely disturb and amuse me with some of his comments.

He was a truly fun person and, while I only knew him online, I can say his loss has left a hole in my heart.

If there truly is a heaven, I'm sure Vorls is there telling Jesus about novel uses for the holes in his hands.

I'll miss you, my friend.

[LastPoet]

He feels no pain anymore.  Death comes to us all and for all I know he never accepted it without a fight. He wanted to retire of staff because he felt he wasn't able to do his part. A hero in my book.

[Pat Mustard]

Sorry to hear the news. I'll miss him very much.

[Amarok]

Poor Vols i'll miss him 

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Alfred Tennyson

[outtathereligioncloset]

Being new here, I don't recall any personal interactions with Vorlon, but I surely do sympathize with everyone's loss. He was obviously a very special person.

[Fireball]

Is there not an EABUV#1? No? :'(

Sad news.

[Minimalist]

I just can't get myself into the mood for it today.  Sorry guys.  Maybe later.

[Shell B]

I just can't get myself into the mood for it today.  Sorry guys.  Maybe later.

I was just telling Tibs I don't feel much like being here today. Kind of sucks the life out of it.

[GrandizerII]

RIP Vorlon, you were the epitome of thick-skinnedness and had the biggest appetite for the extremely bizarre, sexually and otherwise. You will be missed.

[Ravenshire]

Farewell, Vorlon.

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my friend, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

~Dylan Thomas