wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good.

I discovered the miracle that all things that sound are music, including the dishes and silverware in the dishwasher, as long as they fulfill the illusion of showing us where life is heading.

Old people, with other old people, are not so old.

Everything that belonged to her husband made her weep again: his tasseled slippers, his pajamas under the pillow, the space of his absence in the dressing table mirror, his own odor on her skin. A vague thought made her shudder: "The people one loves should take all their things with them when they die.

More than mother and son, they were accomplices in solitude.

She was lost in her longing to understand.

He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.