And she was sweating, beads of sweat running from her forehead down her face. I was so surprised to discover this unsuspected soul that my eyes filled with tears, and I actually cried.

She brushed her teeth one more time. Her brow was wrinkled, her soul trembling.

Death takes place in my very being—how can I explain to you? It’s a sensual death. Like a dead person I walk through the high grass in the greenish light of its blades: I am Diana the Huntress of gold and all I can find are heaps of bones.

. impossible!” she yelled shattered, her happy chest lighting up without paying attention to the man’s warning.

Lóri was confused to notice that even in love you had to keep your common sense and sense of proportion. For an instant, as if they’d planned it, he kissed her hand, humanizing himself.

Some time later, passing the door of her aunt's room, Joana could hear her, her voice low and interrupted by her breathing. Joana put her ear to the door, at the spot where you could even see the mark of her head.

Her eyes moistened with sweet happiness and gratitude. She had spoken. .

That calm woman I’d always been, had she gone mad with pleasure? With my eyes still closed I was trembling with delight. To have killed —was so much greater than I was, it was appropriate to that limitless room.

Faces were appearing, disappearing. Lucrécia found herself so close to a face that it laughed at her.

H. in the leather of my suitcases, and there I am.

And she trilled “chirp, chirp, chirp” as she made an unpardonably slapdash omelet for her long-suffering husband. And then there was her drab, dowdy appearance as she made the omelet, her hair in rollers and her face completely coated with Hipoglós diaper cream.

I believe that the key lies in seeing the thing in the thing, without going beyond or behind it, outside its context. The result of such a new way of looking at the passing moment is often to wonder at a thing as if we were seeing it for the first time.

Her fall was nothing, she thought, just a shove. Her head had hit the curb and she stayed there, her face gently turned toward the gutter.

She continued to stare at the ceiling without the slightest interest, but her heart was beating furiously. Look sideways.

'Everything, everything.' That was when she began to tell lies. For she was a person who had already begun.

That’s all: you know. Don’t ask what, because I can only answer in the same childish way: you effortlessly know. And there’s a feeling of incomparable physical well-being.

Instead of surpassing ourselves. Don’t be afraid now, you’re safe because at least it already happened, unless you see danger in knowing that it happened.

I never got too discouraged: from afar, I would touch. I’ve had a lot, and not even what I touched, you know.

There is a thread of steel going through all that I am writing you. There’s the future.

My God, give me the courage to live three hundred and sixty-five days and nights, all devoid of Thy presence.