Literature, at least good literature, is science tempered with the blood of art. Like architecture or music.

Fools talk, cowards are silent, wise men listen.

somethings can only be seen in the shadows

Barcelona is a very old city in which you can feel the weight of history; it is haunted by history. You cannot walk around it without perceiving it.

All true stories begin and end in a cemetery" - The Shadow of the Wind

Every labyrinth has its minotaur

The haunting of history is ever present in Barcelona. I see cities as organisms, as living creatures. To me, Madrid is a man and Barcelona is a woman. And its a woman whos extremely vain.

A good liar knows that the most efficient lie is always a truth that has had a key piece removed from it.

Waiting is the rust of the soul.

Sometimes we think people are like lottery tickets, that they're there to make our most absurd dreams come true.

One mustn't dream of one's future; one must earn it.

Sometimes when you're young, you have moments of such happiness, you think you're living on someplace magical, like Atlantis must have been. Then we grow up and our hearts break into two.

Do you and I allow light to chase darkness from our souls as well?

Good intentions are not good at all.

The Bibbidi Bobbidi Beautiful boutique, the name filled me with dread.

If I'm going to do something, I really put everything into it and I want it to mean something to me.

Anger is preverbal, so, by the time you're using words to express an angry feeling, you're already imposing loads of structure on that primal experience.

Seeing family is what brings me peace. If I'm not traveling home on my day off, I love going to Central Park to be around trees and throw a Frisbee with my boyfriend.

During my grief, I realised there was nothing I could do for my mother, but I did have a child.

Could anything be absurder than a man? The animal who knows everything about himself--except why he was born and the meaning of his unique existence.

I have Vie Luxe candles in every room. In 2006 I spent the month of August in Sardinia, and the scent reminds me of the wonderful time we had.