How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph.)
Quote #1
Mr Tench went out to look for his ether cylinder, into the blazing Mexican sun and the bleaching dust. A few vultures looked down from the roof with shabby indifference: he wasn't carrion yet. A faint feeling of rebellion stirred in Mr Tench's heart, and he wrenched up a piece of the road with splintering finger-nails and tossed it feebly towards them. One rose and flapped across town: over the tiny plaza, over the bust of an ex-president, ex-general, ex-human being, over the two stalls that sold mineral water, towards the river and the sea. (1.1.1)
The novel opens with a feeble protest against death, which is followed by a quick reminder that death always has the last word. Mr. Tench doesn't hit any of the birds, and only one of them bothers to take flight. The rest are like, "Whatever, dude." The vulture in the air flies over as if to say, "You look like you'd make a good dinner."
Quote #2
The General Obregon was about thirty yards long. A few feet of damaged rail, one lifeboat, a bell hanging on a rotten cord, an oil-lamp in the bow, she looked as if she might weather two or three more Atlantic years, if she didn't strike a Norther in the gulf. (1.1.4)
The boat—a chance for the priest's escape—is itself an image of death and impending doom. Heck, it's in such bad shape that it might not even make it out of the Gulf of Mexico still afloat. Stay or go, death awaits the priest as it awaits us all.
Quote #3
The man's dark suit reminded him uncomfortably of a coffin, and death was in his carious mouth already. (1.1.75)
In this world, a dentist's observations are more often about the Pearly Gates than pearly whites. Mr. Tench can see death approaching from afar, but this foresight hasn't made him any wiser.
Quote #4
"A man like that," the lieutenant said, "does not real harm. A few men dead. We all have to die…" (1.2.34)
Got that? The police lieutenant believes a murderer does no real harm. Um…huh? His reasoning is interesting: because death is inevitable it's not such bad a thing. Suffering is inevitable as well, but he actually thinks he can alter that fact. Which he totally could, if he'd just stop, you know, the whole killing random villagers thing. This dude is a trip.
Quote #5
It infuriated him to think that there were still people in the state who believed in a loving and merciful God. There are mystics who are said to have experienced God directly. He was a mystic, too, and what he had experienced was vacancy—a complete certainty in the existence of a dying, cooling world, of human beings who had evolved from animals with no purpose at all. (1.2.48)
The lieutenant's beliefs differ radically from the priests, but they share the same strong conviction and, in some matters, an absence of doubt. The lieutenant is religiously anti-religious, but don't go telling him we said that. Seriously. He'd be on our tail faster than green grass through a goose.
Quote #6
You do not always say goodbye to those you love beside a deathbed, in an atmosphere of leisure and incense. (2.1.85)
This is straight up Hallmark card material. Just saying.
Quote #7
Death was not the end of pain—to believe in peace was a kind of heresy. (2.1.138)
For the priest to think of death as a moment's pain followed by everlasting peace would require him to dismiss the possibility, and for him likelihood, of hell. He cannot talk himself into believing that his death will be a restful end to his troubles because deep down he believes he's damned to everlasting fire. Cheerful.
Quote #8
Suddenly, he realized that he could see a face, and then another; he had begun to forget that it would ever be another day, just as one forgets that one will ever die. It comes suddenly on one in a screeching break or a whistle in the air, the knowledge that time moves and comes to an end. […] He began formally to pay his farewell to the world: he couldn't put any heart into it. His corruption was less evident to his senses than his death. […] He wasn't a saint. Nothing in life was as ugly as death. (2.3.124)
The implication here is that if the priest were a better man, he would be more troubled by his own faults and failings and less anxious about his mortality. His fears highlight his weakness like a spark in the dark.
Quote #9
"And what happens afterwards? I mean after everybody has got enough to eat and can read the right books—the books you let them read?"
"Nothing. Death's a fact. We don't try to alter facts." (3.3.60-1)
The lieutenant tells the priest, now in his custody, that he doesn't try to alter facts like death. But wait—what does he mean by a "fact"? He clearly wants to erase the historical fact that the Church once existed in his state (1.2.49), and he believes suffering—a fact of life—is wrong and should be stopped (3.3.55-57). So what's the deal? Is he being inconsistent or does he just have a very specific definition of a fact?
Quote #10
He knew now that at the end there was only one thing that counted—to be a saint. (3.4.94)
The priest has an idea of sainthood: living according to God's will to the point of death and beyond. What might the lieutenant's version of sainthood be? How would his version of a saint relate to death?