Memories of My Melancholy Whores

by Gabriel García Márquez

Morality, too, is a question of time, she would say with a malevolent smile, you’ll see.

This was when I heard that the first symptom of old age is when you begin to resemble your father.

The driver warned me: Be careful, scholar, they kill in that house. I replied: If it’s for love it doesn’t matter.

Sex is the consolation you have when you can’t have love.

In the end, it is impossible not to become what others believe you are.

Don’t let yourself die without knowing the wonder of fucking with love.

No matter what you do, this year or in the next hundred, you will be dead forever.