William S. Burroughs: "Hurry up, please. It's time." And OK, those weren't his last words. They were the last words in his last book, The Western Lands. Maybe

William S. Burroughs: "Hurry up, please. It's time." And OK, those weren't his last words. They were the last words in his last book, The Western Lands. Maybe they were more about being ready for death. His final journal entries were published as Last Words: The Final Journals. My favorite: > Here I sit with my three old cats, getting closer to eternity all the time, on a twine chair—(Van Gogh) and me too—and it gets very depressing. What can I do? I had high hopes. We all did. Remember just outside the Tangier Consulate: “Have you met the Skipper yet?” Later I did. And now no skipping, no transport anywhere, except to a cut-rate mortuary. Where were you when I wasn’t there? “Hound of Hell!!” screamed the Pop Star, and kicked the fink dog in the nuts. “Only decent thing I done.” “Forget the whole thing. I have.” Great gasp at this point. How much time? have I left? Not much it seems.”