With a step forward and one backward, always between yesterday and tomorrow, we live in a question without answer: does the night end or the morning begin? And if it is a day when we can change everything, why don’t we see it, although our eyes are wide open?

Life is a comedy to which we are all crying

When you are with somebody who hides being seen with you, you are worse than alone. Even you are not with you.

We are preparing ourselves to write the story of our life, but we live only the draft of it.

Every man tells two stories: one to themselves, and one to the others. Most of the time, these two stories do not bare resemblance to one another. Most of the time, we wake up and wish we were in another story.

The arteries of the city gradually begin to be crossed by cars with drivers who are searching for something, half asleep. Their automatic gestures reveal the monotony in which they bath like in a warm muddy puddle, like a drop of water in the fractured asphalt, sometimes dreaming of being a drop of ocean.

The divorce was invented so you’ll not have to sleep with a mistake your entire life.

Life is a dog you are used to play with by throwing him a stick. You are used to the game, you trust the dog, but one day it doesn’t come back with the stick. Another day even the dog doesn’t return. The man is a master who finds out too late he owned no dog.

You have to become a champion in getting quickly out of negative situations, because life will not spare you of them.