The Shadow of the Wind (The Cemetery of Forgotten Books, #1)

by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

Never trust anyone, Daniel, especially the people you admire. Those are the ones who will make you suffer the worst blows.”

All I wish is for you to be happy, Julián, that everything you aspire to achieve may come true and that, although you may forget me in the course of time, one day you may finally understand how much I loved you. Always, Penélope

“Not evil,” Fermín objected. “Moronic, which isn’t quite the same thing. Evil presupposes a moral decision, intention, and some forethought. A moron or a lout, however, doesn’t stop to think or reason. He acts on instinct, like a stable animal, convinced that he’s doing good, that he’s always right, and sanctimoniously proud to go around fucking up, if you’ll excuse the French, anyone he perceives to be different from himself,

“It’s like the tide, you see?” he said, beside himself. “The savagery, I mean. It goes away, and you feel safe, but it always returns, it always returns…and it chokes us.

“I am. Bernarda has made me want to be a better man.” “How’s that?” “So that I can deserve her. You cannot understand such things right now, because you’re young. But in good time you’ll see that sometimes what matters isn’t what one gives but what one gives up.

“You talk as if Bea were a trophy.” “No, as if she were a blessing,” Fermín corrected. “Look, Daniel. Destiny is usually just around the corner. Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it.”

“On the contrary. Fools talk, cowards are silent, wise men listen.”

“Take Beatriz away from here, Daniel. She knows what you must do. Don’t let her out of your sight. Don’t let anyone take her from you. Anyone or anything. Look after her. More than your own life.”

I saw them as one sees strangers from a train that is moving away too fast. It was then, almost without realizing, that I remembered my mother’s face, a face I had lost so many years before, as if an old cutting had suddenly fallen out of the pages of a book. Her light was all that came with me as I descended.