At eight-one years of age he had enough lucidity to realize that he was attached to this world by a few slender threads that could break painlessly with a simple change of position while he slept, and if he did all he could to keep those threads intact, it was because of his terror of not finding God in the darkness of death.
Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
aging, death, garbriel-garcia-marquez, god, love-in-the-time-of-cholera