We remember Thomas not for his bad decisions, but for his brilliant, impossible lines, like “Do not go gentle into that good night.” It’s ironic, right? A man who went extremely gentle, almost face-first, into that good night. He fought against the dying of the light, but he spent the whole war drinking the fuel.
So, what did Dylan Thomas die of? Life. A wild, messy, glorious, self-destructive life that he lived at 200 miles per hour until the engine finally blew. The next time you feel a little rough after a night out, raise a glass of water to him. He’d probably laugh and then order another whiskey. Cheers to that.
