Lo que pasó es lo de menos. Es una novela, y lo que ocurre en ellas da lo mismo y se olvida, una vez terminadas. Lo interesante son las posibilidades e ideas que nos inoculan...

…and yet the idea is hard to accept, it’s so hard to succeed in making something happen, even what’s been decided on and planned out, not even the will of a god seems forceful enough...

We live, I suppose, in the unconfessed hope that the rules will at some point be broken, along with the normal course of things and custom and history, and that this will happen to us,...

We lose everything because everything remains except us. And therefore any form of posterity may be an affront, and perhaps any memory, as well.

Everything that happens to us, everything that we say or hear, everything that we see with our own eyes or we articulate with our tongue, everything that enters through our ears, everything we are witness...

People only get married when they’ve no other option, out of panic or desperation or so as not to lose someone they couldn’t bear to lose. It’s always the most conventional things that contain the...

The day we didn’t spend together, we will never spend together, what someone was going to say to us on the phone when they called and we didn’t answer will never be said, at least...

I have a tendency to want to understand everything people say and everything I hear, both at work and outside, even at a distance, even if it’s one of the innumerable languages I don’t know,...

For me that’s the only way of understanding a particular term that everyone here bandies about quite happily, but which clearly can’t be quite that straight forward because it doesn’t exist in many languages, only...

Es curioso cómo el pensamiento incurre en lo inverosímil, cómo se lo permite momentáneamente, cómo fantasea o se hace supersticioso para descansar un rato o encontrar alivio, cómo es capaz de negar los hechos y...

We all have to lead our own life, and we only have the one life, and the only people who can live life not according to their own desires are those who have no desires–which...

Listening is the most dangerous thing of all, listening means knowing, finding out about something and knowing what’s going on, our ears don’t have lids that can instinctively close against the words uttered, they can’t...

I knew that Sundays in England aren’t just ordinary dull Sundays, the same the world over, which demand that one simply tiptoe through without disturbing them or paying them the least attention, they are vaster...

Sometimes I have the feeling that what takes place is identical to what doesn’t take place, what we dismiss or allow to slip by us identical to what we accept and seize, what we experience...

We cannot know what time will do to us with its fine, indistinguishable layers upon layers, we cannot know what it might make of us. It advances stealthily, day by day and hour by hour...