One Hundred Years of Solitude

None of that, because hes
alive, was the answer of José
Arcadio Buendía, who
finished the seventy-two
hours with the mercurial
incense as the body was
already beginning to burst
with a livid fluorescence, the
soft whistles of which
impregnated the house with a
pestilential vapor. Only then
did he permit them to bury
him, not in any ordinary way,
but with the honors reserved