Аусенсия Сантандер го преобърна целия от лице и от опаки с мъдростта си на старо куче, изправи го неколкократно с главата надолу, с краката нагоре, преобрази го до такава степен, сякаш отново го роди,...
¿Crees que ella estará de acuerdo?- Ay, mi sabio triste, está bien que estés viejo, pero no pendejo –Dijo Rosa Cabarcas muerta de risa-. Esa pobre criatura está lela de amor por ti.
«Es que la credibilidad, mi querido maestro, depende mucho de la cara que uno ponga para contarlo».
«Eres el único hombre que, al despertar, no recuerda nada de lo que ha soñado».
Sucumbió a la depresión, renunció a comer, durmió mal, perdió el norte, y optó por la solución compasiva de morirse una vez y no morirse millones de veces cada día.
Pregunté al portero si estaban permitidas las visitas de amigas de medianoche, y él me dio su respuesta sabia: —Está prohibido, señor, pero yo no veo lo que no debo.
Cetáceos de piel delicada con cabeza y torso de mujer, que perdían a los navegantes con el hechizo de sus tetas descomunales.
Because of his terror of not finding God in the darkness of death.
And the two of them loved each other for a long time in silence without making love again.
[...] asumí la condición extraña de exiliado dentro de mi propio país, que es la forma más amarga del exilio.
You have to know languages when you go to sell something, she said with mocking laughter. But when you go to buy, everyone does what he must to understand you.
What happens is that you don’t feel it on the inside, but from the outside everybody can see it.
Thus they went on living in a reality that was slipping away, momentarily captured by words, but which would escape irremediably when they forgot the values of the written letters.
Things have a life of their own, the gypsy proclaimed with a harsh accent. It's simply a matter of waking up their souls.
They entrenched themselves in their preferences, their beliefs, their prejudices, and closed ranks against everything that was different
The world must be all fucked up, he said then, when men travel first class and literature goes as freight.
The truth is I'm getting old, I said. We already are old, she said with a sigh. What happens is that you don't feel it on the inside, but from the outside everybody can see it.
The symptoms of love are the same as those of cholera.
The only thing he could do to stay alive was not to allow himself the anguish of that memory. He erased it from his mind, although from time to time in the years that were left to him he would feel it...
The only certainty was that they took everything with them: money, December breezes, the bread knife, thunder at 3 in the afternoon, the scent of jasmines, love. All that remained were the dusty almon...