“She knows that very soon Ernesto won't come back. She imagines herself disconcerted, then furious, and finally invaded by a decisive calm. It's all right, there was no commitment, as it should be: one loves in order to stop loving,… — Alejandro Zambra Copy Share Image
After the briskness of loving, loving stops. And you roll over with death stretched out alongside you like a feather boa, or a snake, light as air, and you... you don't even ask for anything or try to say something… — Susan Minot Copy Share Image
