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— Joseph Wood Krutch"Nature, in her blind thirst for life has filled every possible cranny of the rotting earth with some sort of fantastic creature."
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Between the covers of the books that no one had ever read again, in the old parchments damaged by dampness, a livid flower had prospered, and in the air that had been the purest and brightest in the house an unbearable smell of rotten memories floated.
— Gabriel Garcia Marquez
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There are souls, he thought, whose umbilicus has never been cut. They never got weaned from the universe. They do not understand death as an enemy; they look forward to rotting and turning into humus.
— Ursula K. Le Guin
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