At the end of the 1950s, I started working at a publishing company, Estudios Cor, as production manager, so returning, but not as an author, to the world of letters I had left some years before.

Every thing in life is a uniform; the only time our bodies are truly in civilian dress is when we're naked.

As so often happens, the thing left undone tires you most of all, you only feel rested when it has been accomplished.

One can show no greater respect than to weep for a stranger.

We say Fine, even though we may be dying, and this is commonly known as taking one's courage in both hands, a phenomenon that has only been observed in the human species.

Doesn't anybody understand that killing in the name of God only makes Him a murderer?

Everything in this world can volunteer some reply, what takes up time is posing the questions.