BipolarPhoenix

Beatriz y los cuerpos celestes, Lucía Etxebarria

El Principito, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

El diario de Ana Frank

Look here Vita — throw over your man, and we’ll go to Hampton Court and dine on the river together and walk in the garden in the moonlight and come home late and have a bottle of wine and get tipsy, and I’ll tell you all the things I have in my head, millions, myriads — They won’t stir by day, only by dark on the river. Think of that. Throw over your man, I say, and come.

It was the first time I heard the name of Virginia Woolf, whom he [Gustavo Ibarra] called Old Lady Woolf, like Old Man Faulkner. My amazement inspired him to the point of delirium. He seized the pile of books he had shown me as his favorites and placed them in my hands. “Don’t be an asshole,” he said, “take them all, and when you finish reading them we’ll come get them no matter where you are.” For me they were an inconceivable treasure that I did not dare put at risk when I did not have even a miserable hole where I could keep them. At last he resigned himself to giving me the Spanish version of Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, with the unappealable prediction that I would learn it by heart. […] I went [home] with the air of someone who had discovered the world.

El hombre invisible, H. G. Wells