“I’m scared, Myrt.”
“Of what? When your time comes, it comes. And tears won’t
save you.” She had observed that her mother had begun to shed a
few. “When Homer died, I used up all the fear I had in me, and
all the grief, too. If there’s somebody loose around here that wants
to cut my throat, I wish him luck. What difference does it make?
it’s all the same in eternity. Just Remember: If one bird carried
every grain of sand, grain by grain, across the ocean, by the time
he got them all on the other side, that would only be the begin-
ning of eternity, So blow your nose.
– Mrs. Myrtle Clare – In Cold Blood –
– Truman Capote –