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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

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Please, please, help me grow to be like them, the ones'll soon be here, who never grow old, can't die, that's what they say, can't die, no matter what...more

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He was in Guanajuato, Mexico, he was a writer, and tonight was the Day of the Dead ceremony. He was in a little room on the second floor of a hotel, a...more

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Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes ...more

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Death loves death, not life. Dying people love to know that others die with them; it is a comfort to learn you are not alone in the kiln, in the grave...more

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I’m the thing you most desire, you represent the thing I least desire, death. It’s just the opposite of love.

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Once you kill all of us, and you're alone, you'll die! The hate will die. That hate is what moves you, nothing else! That envy moves you. Nothing else...more

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And in the years when your shadow leaned clear across the land as you lay abed nights with your heartbeat mounting to the billions, his invention must...more

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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.