The birth of the reader must be at the cost of the death of the author.
“Yet when within my heart I gaze
Upon my fair beyond the waters,
Meseems my soul within me prays
To pass straightway beyond the waters.
Though I be alway banished
From ways and woods that she doth tread,
One thing there is that doth not fade,”
Ezra Pound | “Canzon: The Spear”