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.

Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination.

Fernanda, on the other hand, looked for it in vain along the paths of her everyday itinerary without knowing that the search for lost things is hindered by routine habits and that is why it is so difficult to find them.

One can be in love with several people at the same time, feel the sorrow with each, and not betray any of them.

There's no greater misfortune than dying alone.

At some point, you no longer feel pain. Sensation disappears and reason is dulled, until you lose all grasp of time and place.

I think just the opposite is true: love is an ideology for eternal militants, and the more misfortunes life tries to burden us with, the more essential love becomes.