Are you afraid?” asked Alma. “No. I suppose that what comes after death is the same as before birth.
C’erano giorni in cui rimaneva imbrigliato negli incubi senza mai svegliarsi del tutto.
Con cada amor volvemos a nacer y con cada amor que termina se nos abre una herida. Estoy llena de orgullosas cicatrices.
Dios no nos manda sufrimientos sin la fortaleza para soportarlos.
She had loved her husband with the fierce loyalty of someone who does not question her destiny as a wife, but becoming a widow was a liberation for her.
Old age is the best moment to be and do whatever you enjoy. Soon no one will be able to bear me.
Van ons hangt het af of liefde eeuwig is.
The nightmares of the past were like dust that had settled along the way: the slightest gust sent them billowing up once more.
The simple recipe for success that Mendel had instilled in his children from the cradle on consisted in never complaining, never asking for anything, striving to be the best in everything you do, and never trusting anyone.
Mario Vargas Llosa’s.
Vreau sa ma gandesc ca meseria mea e VIATA si ca misiunea mea nu este sa prelungesc ura, ci doar sa umplu aceste pagini.
Sometimes I am assaulted by the memory of a scene from that time on the street, a memory that flares up inside me and leaves me trembling. Other times I wake up sweating with images in my head, as vivid as if they were real. In the dream I see myself running naked, screaming voicelessly, in a labyrinth of narrow alleys that coil like serpents, buildings with blank doors and windows, not a soul to ask for help, my body burning, my feet bleeding, bile in my mouth, all alone.
Like a luminous spiderweb, Popo. The threads of that web connect everything that exists. I can’t explain it to you. When you die, you’re going to travel like that comet, and I’ll be right behind, attached to your tail.” “We’ll be astral dust.
Nathaniel Belasco had photographed his wife between 1977 and 1983, using one of the first twenty-by-twenty-four Polaroids capable of capturing the tiniest details with the utmost precision.
I was very serious about journalism, even though colleagues from that time believe that I invented my reports. I didn’t invent them, I merely exaggerated slightly.
Estaba feliz de haber perdido todo.
The upper middle class and the economic right, who had favored the coup, were euphoric. At first they were a little shocked when they saw the consequences of their action; they had never lived in a dictatorship and did not know what it was like. They thought the loss of democratic freedoms would be temporary and that it was possible to go without individual or collective rights for a while so long as the regime respected the tenets of free enterprise.
I never forget that a book is not an end in itself. Just like a newspaper or a magazine, a book is a means of communication, which is why I try to grab the reader by the throat and not let go to the end. I don’t always succeed, of course; readers tend to be elusive. Who is my reader?
Las miserias de la enfermedad nos igualan, no hay ricos ni pobres, al cruzar este umbral los privilegios se hacen humo y nos volvemos humildes. Mi.
She was one of those stoical, practical women of our country, the kind of woman who has a child with every man who passes through her life and, on top of that, takes in other people’s abandoned children, her own poor relatives, and anybody else who needs a mother, a sister, or an aunt; the kind of woman who’s the pillar of many other lives, who raises her children to grow up and leave her and lets her men leave too, without a word of reproach, because she has more pressing things to worry about.