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Everyone must leave something behind when he dies . . . Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die . . . It do...more

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Every time you take a step, even when you don't want to. . . . When it hurts, when it means you rub chins with death, or even if it means dying, that'...more

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Sunsets are loved because they vanish.Flowers are loved because they go.The dogs of the field and the cats of the kitchen are loved because soon they ...more

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She knew a thing she should have known all along: that dead people are like wax memory-you take them in your mind, you shape and squeeze them, push a ...more

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Everything that happens before Death is what counts.

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Death doesn't exist. It never did, it never will. But we've drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it, we've g...more

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The father hesitated only a moment. He felt the vague pain in his chest. If I run, he thought, what will happen? Is Death important? No. Everything th...more

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When you reach the stars, boy, yes, and live there forever, all the fears will go, and Death himself will die.

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I've always figured it that you die each day and each day is a box, you see, all numbered and neat; but never go back and lift the lids, because you'v...more

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How talented was death. How many expressions and manipulations of hand, face, body, no two alike.

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I take this continent with me into the grave.

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When I graduated from high school, it was during the Depression and we had no money.

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From this outer edge of his life, looking back, there was only one remorse, and that was only that he wished to go on living. Did all dying people fee...more

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Writing keeps death at bay. Every book I write is a triumph over death. ... If we did not know we’d die, we’d wander around and sleep like cats.

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How talented was death. How many expressions and manipulations of hand, face, body, no two alike. They stood like the naked pipes of a vast derelict c...more