It Was A Love Of Perpetual Flight.

The House Became Full Of Love. Aureliano Expressed It In Poetry That Had No Beginning And No End. He Would Write It On The Harsh Pieces Of Parchment That Melquiades Gave Him, On The Bathroom Walls, On The Skin Of His Arms, And In All Of It Remedios Would Appear Transfigured: Remedios In The Soporific Air Of Two In The Afternoon, Remedios In The Soft Breath Of The Roses, Remedios In The Water-clock Secrets Of The Moths, Remedios In The Steaming Morning Bread, Remedios Everywhere And Remedios Forever.

Always Tell What You Feel. Do What You Think.

If God Hadn't Rested On Sunday, He Would Have Had Time To Finish The World.

To Oppression, Plundering And Abandonment, We Respond With Life.

The Only Virgos Left In The World Are People Like You Who Were Born In August.