The year I turned ninety, I wanted to give myself the gift of a night of wild love with an adolescent virgin.

El mundo habrá acabado de joderse -dijo entonces- el día en que los hombres viajen en primera clase y la literatura en el vagón de carga.

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.

opened the door a crack wide enough for the entire world to pass through .

There is no greater glory than to die for love.

Time was not passing...it was turning in a circle.

He repeated until his dying day that there was no one with more common sense, no stonecutter more obstinate, no manager more lucid or dangerous, than a poet.