A writer should have another lifetime to see if he's appreciated.

Time can't be measured in days the way money is measured in pesos and centavos, because all pesos are equal, while every day, perhaps every hour, is different.

What will die with me the day I die? What pathetic or frail image will be lost to the world? The voice of Macedonio Fernandez, the image of a bay horse in a vacant lot on the corner of Sarrano and Charcas, a bar of sulfur in the drawer of a mahogany desk?

What will die with me when I die, what pathetic or fragile form will the world lose?

That one individual should awaken in another memories that belong to still a third is an obvious paradox.

It means much to have loved, to have been happy, to have laid my hand on the living Garden, even for a day.

The dictionary is based on the hypothesis -- obviously an unproven one -- that languages are made up of equivalent synonyms.