There are no second chances in life, except to feel remorse.
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The Cemetery of Forgotten Books is a metaphor, not just for books but for ideas, for language, for knowledge, for beauty, for all the things that make...
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I knew then that I would devote every minute we had left together to making her happy, to repairing the pain I had caused her and returning to her wh...
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He believed that life gives us all a few moments of happiness. For some they last hours or days, for a few lucky ones they last for years. The memorie...
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Her tiny and organized handwriting reminded me of the tidiness of her desk, as if she'd wanted to find in words the peace and safety that life hadn't ...
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You don't know what thirst is until you drink for the first time.
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Without further ado I left the place, finding my route by the marks I had made on the way in. As I walked in the dark through the tunnels and tunnels ...
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We seem to live in a world where forgetting and oblivion are an industry in themselves and very, very few people are remotely interested or aware of t...
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Youth is like a fickle girlfriend. We can't understand or value her until she goes off with someone else, never to return.
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The night I met him [he] told me that, for some reason, life usually grants us what we are not looking for. He was given wealth, fame, and power, yet ...
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I can't die yet, doctor. Not yet. I have things to do. Afterwords I'll have a whole lifetime in which to die.
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It's possible, and I stress possible, that such a moment may never come: you may not fall in love, you may not be able to or you may not wish to give ...
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We all give up great expectations along the way.
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Now he knew that any memories he might cherish during the last years of his life would be only fictions from a biography he'd never lived.
