Once again she shuddered with the evidence that time was not passing, as she had just admitted, but that it was turning in a circle.

Over the weekend the vultures got into the presidential palace by pecking through the screens on the balcony windows and the flapping of their wings stirred up the stagnant time inside, and at dawn on Monday the city awoke out of its lethargy of centuries with the warm, soft breeze of a great man dead and rotting grandeur.

I would not have traded the delights of my suffering for anything in the world.

Everyone has three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life.

It was, at last, real life, with my heart safe and condemned to die of happy love in the joyful agony of any day after my hundredth birthday.

Then he made one last effort to search in his heart for the place where his affection had rotted away, and he could not find it.

The adolescents of my generation, greedy for life, forgot in body and soul about their hopes for the future until reality taught them that tomorrow was not what they had dreamed, and they discovered nostalgia.