Some people say it's foolish to worry about soulless creatures overtaking the earth and devouring our brains.
I say they've already won.
The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Love In The Time of Cholera remains my favorite novel. And while I know that I've only read his works in translation, the spell he cast on language was truly magical.
Like a flock of yellow butterflies that steal your sleep.
The Captain looked at Fermina Daza and saw on her eyelashes the first glimmer of wintry frost. Then he looked at Florentino Ariza, his invincible power, his intrepid love, and he was overwhelmed by the belated suspicion that it is life, more than death, that has not limits.
"And how long do you think we can keep up this goddamn coming and going?" he asked.
Florentino Ariza had kept his answer ready for fifty-three years, seven months and eleven days and nights.