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“I just can’t help thinking what a real shake up it would give people if, all of a sudden, there were no new books, new plays, new histories, new poems…”

And how proud would you be when people started dying like flies?” I demanded.

They’d die more like mad dogs, I think–snarling & snapping at each other & biting their own tails.”

I turned to Castle the elder. “Sir, how does a man die when he’s deprived of the consolation of literature?”

In one of two ways,” he said, “putrescence of the heart or atrophy of the nervous system.”

Neither one very pleasant, I expect,” I suggested.

No,” said Castle the elder. “For the love of God, both of you, please keep writing!”

― Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Cat’s Cradle

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