Isabel Allende

For him it had been pleasure with no risk; for her there was risk with little pleasure

“I understand, my child, but you must accept your discomfort. It’s normal in your condition: offer it up to God Almighty. As the holy scriptures say: man has to work by the sweat of his brow, and woman has to give birth in pain.”

“As far as I can tell, Father, you don’t sweat when you work.”

You want to know if I told my confessor the name of the father of this child . . . It didn’t seem to me necessary, because what matters is the sin, not with whom one sins.”

Isidro preferred to know as little as possible, remaining faithful to his habit of staying away from the emotional extravagances of the female members of the family

This would have seemed suspicious to anyone but Matias, who wasn’t stupid, as Ofelia thought, but one of those rare good men

and instead including artists and intellectuals, had enriched the country with a wide range of talent, knowledge, and culture. In under a decade they had provided outstanding scientists, musicians, painters, writers, journalists, and even a historian

In any event, it was a relief to recover peace and quiet. His guest had filled every nook and cranny with his huge presence

Each one moved along, intoxicated by that boundless solitude

horses to continue the journey. “Governments come and go, but poets remain, Don Pablo

Fascinated, Marcel studied the complicated geography of Àvia’s wrinkles, her yellow, nicotine-stained