“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 made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.” (Fahrenheit 451)
“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I’ve never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands? He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.” (Fahrenheit 451)
"I have two rules in life - to hell with it, whatever it is, and get your work done."
“Looking back over a lifetime, you see that love was the answer to everything.”
Läs även minnesrunor av Neil Gaiman och John Scalzi.
(Fotnot: Fahrenheit 451, som är boken som ska läsas av 1) alla som läser böcker, 2) alla som inte läser böcker, och 3) alla andra, finns inte på hemsidan just nu men kommer in igen.)
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