She imagined herself both queen and slave, dominatrix and victim. In her imagination she was making love with men of all skin colors--white, black, yellow--with homosexuals and beggars. She was anyone's, and anyone could do anything to her. She had one, two, three orgasms, one after another. She imagined everything she had never imagined before, and she gave herself to all that was most base and most pure.

But now I knew that true love was above all that and that it would be better to die than to fail to love.

May my tears run just as far, that my love might never know that one day I cried for him.

I'm not saying that love always takes you to heaven. Your life can become a nightmare. But that said, it is worth taking the risk.

There is an afterlife. I am convinced of this.

fate is strange.. almost no one i know married the first love of their lives. but for those who did are always telling me that they missed soemthing important, that they didn’t experience all that they might have.." - by the river piedra i sat down and wept

The day will come when those knocking at the door will see it open; those who ask will receive; those who weep will be consoled.