Surrealism runs through the streets.

This was his world, he said to himself, the sad, oppressive world that God had provided for him, and he was responsible to it.

This was when she asked him whether it was true that love conquered all, as the songs said. 'It is true', he replied, 'but you would do well not to believe it.

Hate and love are reciprocal passions.

One never quite stops believing, some doubt remains forever".

The truth is I'm getting old, I said. We already are old, she said with a sigh. What happens is that you don't feel it on the inside, but from the outside everybody can see it.

He would wake for no reason in the middle of the night, and the memory of the self-absorbed love was revealed to him for what it was: a pitfall of happiness that he despised and desired at the same time, but from which it was impossible to escape.