She slammed the book closed, ran to her bed, gathered her stuffed animals up in her arms, started chewing on her blanket, and cried for a while, considering the question of trolls.

I shall take the heart. For brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world.

I just got on a pony&#39;s back and away I went.

Once I am dead, there will be no lack of pious hands to throw me over the railing; my grave will be the fathomless air; my body will sink endlessly and decay and dissolve in the wind generated by the fall, which is infinite.

Written By Jorge Luis Borges

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