Que el mundo es horrible, es una verdad que no necesita demostracion. Bastaria un hecho para probarlo, en todo caso: en un campo de concentracion un ex pianista se quejo de hambre y entonces lo obligaron a comerse una rata, pero viva.

On a tiny planet that has been racing toward oblivion for millions of years, we are born amid sorrow; we grow, we struggle, we grow ill, we suffer, we make others suffer, we cry out, we die, others die, and new beings are born to begin the senseless comedy all over again.’ Was that really it? I sat pondering the idea of the absence of meaning. Was our life nothing more than a sequence of anonymous screams in a desert of indifferent stars?

Desi este ingrozitor cand intelegi, viata se scrie in ciorna, iar noua nu ne este dat sa-i corectam paginile.

Desgraciadamente, estuve condenado a permanecer ajeno a la vida de cualquier mujer.

I for one have never believed there is such a thing as a collective memory – which may be one way humans protect themselves. The phrase ‘the good old days’ does not mean that bad things happened less frequently in the past, only fortunately that people simply forget they happened.

It is strange, but living is constructing memories. Right now, here in front of the sea, I know that I am creating small memories that someday will bring me melancholy and despair.

The phrase ‘the good old days’ does not mean that bad things happened less frequently in the past, only – fortunately – that people simply forget they happened.

Necesitaba detalles: me emocionan los detalles, no las generalidades.

The expression ‘there is nothing like the good old days’ does not mean that fewer bad things happened before, but fortunately, that people tend to forget about them.

Was our life nothing more than a sequence of anonymous screams in a desert of indifferent stars?