As a writer I'm merely a journalist who has learned to write better than others.

And nevertheless, when they watched him leave the house, this man they themselves had urged to conquer the world, then they were the ones left with the terror that he would never return. That was their life. Love, if it existed, was something separate: another life.

It was the last that remained of a past whose annihilation had not taken place because it was still in a process of annihilation, consuming itself from within, ending at every moment but never ending its ending.

It was a love of perpetual flight.

That's maybe the reason he does so many things so that he will not have to think .

She had never imagined that curiosty was one of the many masks of love .

Intrigued by that enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her.