I Write To Try To Understand, And

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.

Life Is Like That, Full Of Words That Are Not Worth Saying Or That Were Worth Saying Once But Not Any More, Each Word That We Utter Will Take Up The Space Of Another More Deserving Word, Not Deserving In Its Own Right, But Because Of The Possible Consequences Of Saying It.

... That's How Life Should Be, When One Person Loses Heart, The Other Must Have Heart And Courage Enough For Both.

Sleep Is A Skilled Magician, It Changes The Proportions Of Things, The Distances Between Them, It Separates People And They're Lying Next To Each Other, Brings Them Together And They Can Barely See One Another.

If I'm Sincere Today, What Does It Matter If I Regret It Tomorrow?