The children would remember for the rest of their lives the august solemnity with which their father, devastated by his prolonged vigil and by the wraith of his imagination, revealed his discovery to them: 'The world is round, like an orange.

Even when the winds of misfortune blow, amazing things can still happen.

This was when I heard that the first symptom of old age is when you begin to resemble your father.

Surrealism runs through the streets.

I would give wings to children, but I would leave it to them to learn how to fly by themselves.

I want the same one, the way she always is, without failures, without fights, without bad memories.

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.