The Providence granted me with the ability to think, and thinking unveiled to me that, sadly, there was no providence.
~ Javier Enríquez Serralde
The youth of today will never have the determination and the understanding of yesteryear's youth.
Husbands are the leftovers of a stew called love –she thought—, and with hair on their faces.
Falling in love is partial love, an artifact. —he said.— What I feel is an infatuation with a penetrating desire to possess.
Some commit slow suicide with the sweet poison of their memories.
Brevity is a sublime talent.
Being in love is to be half-cooked inside an eggshell called love.
