Borges, Jorge Luis

Once I’m 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. I say that the Library is unending. […] The Library is a sphere whose exact center is any one of its hexagons and whose circumference is inaccessible.