In reality they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic world, where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary signs.

There comes a time in each life like a point of fulcrum. At that time you must accept yourself. It is not any more what you will become. It is what you are and always will be. You are too young to know this. You are still becoming. Not being.

I'm not talking to anyone, I'm delivering a monologue. It's the inebriated man's prerogative.

Written By Carlos Ruiz Zafón

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links