The truth was that I could not manage my soul, and I was becoming aware of old age because of my weakness in the face of love.

As I kissed her the heat of her body increased, and it exhaled a wild, untamed fragrance.

You can't eat hope,' the woman said. You can't eat it, but it sustains you,' the colonel replied.

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 revive, with no warning and for no reason, like the sudden pang of an old scar.

They were so close to each other that they preferred death to separation.

In the end all books are written for your friends.

Nobody is worth crying for, and those that are worth it will not make you cry.