A girl calls and asks, "Does it hurt very much to die?"
"Well, sweetheart," I tell her, "yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living.

If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?

Reality means you live until you die...the real truth is nobody wants reality.

You’ve thrown down the gauntlet. You’ve brought my wrath down upon your house. Now, to prove that I exist I must kill you. As the child outlives the father, so must the character bury the author. If you are, in fact, my continuing author, then killing you will end my existence as well. Small loss. Such a life, as your puppet, is not worth living.
But… If I destroy you and your dreck script, and I still exist… then my existence will be glorious, for I will become my own master.

Only in death will we have our own names since only in death are we no longer part of the effort. In death we become heroes.

Someday you will die, and until you know that, you're useless to me.