What Matters In Life Is Not What

At Some Point, You No Longer Feel Pain. Sensation Disappears And Reason Is Dulled, Until You Lose All Grasp Of Time And Place.

Santiago Nasar Had Often Told Me That The Smell Of Closed-in Flowers Had An Immediate Relation To Death For Him.

He Repeated Until His Dying Day That There Was No One With More Common Sense, No Stonecutter More Obstinate, No Manager More Lucid Or Dangerous, Than A Poet.

The Woman Let Out An Expansive Laugh That Resounded Through The House Like A Spray Of Broken Glass.

That's Maybe The Reason He Does So Many Things So That He Will Not Have To Think .