In the beginning, when the world was new and nothing had a name, my father took me to see the ice.
Gabriel Garcia MarquezBetween the covers of the books that no one had ever read again, in the old parchments damaged by dampness, a livid flower had prospered, and in the air that had been the purest and brightest in the house an unbearable smell of rotten memories floated.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez