He was a very private person, and sometimes it seemed to me that he was no longer interested in the world or in other people... I got the feeling that Julián was living in the past, locked in his memories. Julián lived within himself, for his books and inside them - a comfortable prison of his own design." "You say this as if you envied him." "There are worse prisons than words.

I was raised among books, making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day.

People with a meagre soul always try to make others feel small too.

To truly hate is an art one learns with time.

Envy is the religion of the mediocre

Literature, at least good literature, is science tempered with the blood of art. Like architecture or music.

I prefer you like this, when you're in a foul mood, because you tell the truth.