She likes to try everything, out of curiosity, but she'll be sorry if she isn't guided by her heart.

his examination revealed that he had no fever, no pain anywhere, and that his only concrete feeling was an urgent desire to die. All that was needed was shrewd questioning...to conclude once again that the symptoms of love were the same as those of cholera.

For you was I born, for you do I have life, for you will I die, for you am I now dying.

When you have a healthy appetite there is no such thing as bad bread.

He said that love was an emotion contra natura that condemned two strangers to a base and unhealthy dependence, and the more intense it was, the more ephemeral.

Life had already given him sufficient reasons for knowing that no defeat was the final one.

In her final years she would still recall the trip that, with the perverse lucidity of nostalgia, became more and more recent in her memory.