I just want some space to myself every now and then. Every time I’m with you I have this sense that you want something from me.

Of course we all know that's not how life works. The novel that is our life can end at any time. Sometimes even on page one.

The world should always be concerned whenever a vast human rights violation occurs anywhere on the planet.

Each morning, before Jackie started her studies, she wrote on a clean piece of paper: Tarde venientibus ossa. To the latecomers are left the bones.

Ana Iris once asked me if I loved him and I told her about the lights in my old home in the capital, how they flickered and you never knew if they would go out or not. You put down your things and you waited and couldn't do anything really until the lights decided. This, I told her, is how I feel.

Nilda is watching the ground as though she's afraid she might fall. My heart is beating and I think, We could do anything. We could marry. We could drive off to the West Coast. We could start over. It's all possible but neither of us speaks for a long time and the moment closes and we're back in the world we've always known.

This is what I know: people's hopes go on forever.