She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst… Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.

It was the time when they loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity.

He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.

Nothing resembles a person as much as the way he dies.

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

Sex is one's consolation when love is not enough

Love is not a condition of the spirit but a sign of the zodiac.