If you hear of my being stood up against a Mexican wall and shot to rags, please know that I think it's a pretty good way to depart this life. It beats old age, disease, or falling down the cellar stairs. To be a Gringo in Mexico - ah, that is euthanasia.
— Bierce's last known piece of writing, a letter to a friend, before his mysterious disappearance.
Early one June morning I murdered my father - an act which made a deep impression on me at the time.
— Opening sentence to An Imperfect Conflagration, by Ambrose Bierce