In the course of time there was a day that closed the last eyes to see Christ. The battle of Junín and the love of Helen each died with the death of the same man. What will die with me when I die, what pitiful or perishable form will the world lose? The voice of Macedonio Fernández? The image of a roan horse on the vacant lot at Serrano and Charcas? A bar of sulphur in the drawer of a mahogany desk?
— Jorge Louis Borges