In all fiction, when a man is faced with alternatives he chooses one at the expense of others.

We are our memory, we are that chimerical museum of shifting shapes, that pile of broken mirrors.

A book is a physical object in a world of physical objects. It is a set of dead symbols. And then the right reader comes along, and the words—or rather the poetry behind the words, for the words themselves are mere symbols—spring to life, and we have a resurrection of the word.

In Spanish it is very difficult to make things flow, because words are over-long. But in English, you have light words.

It seemed incredible that this day, a day without warnings or omens, might be that of my implacable death.

There are no moral or intellectual merits. Homer composed the Odyssey; if we postulate an infinite period of time, with infinite circumstances and changes, the impossible thing is not to compose the Odyssey, at least once.

Every man should be capable of all ideas.