Roberto Saviano

"Os mortos não gostam da vida. Nem aqueles que, para trabalhar, precisam se vender; tampouco aqueles que, para escrever, devem fazer acordos. Todos aqueles para os quais, se você existe, significa que é possível agir de modo diferente do deles. Você se dá conta de quanto incomoda?”

Salman Rushdie.

MARIO VARGAS LLOSA : eL SUEÑO DEL CELTA

TOM RACHMAN: The Imperfectionists

Libido: it has been the tyrant of his times, hurling him from comfortable America all those years ago to sinful Europe for adventure and conquest, marrying him four times, tripping him up a hundred more, distracting and

ARTHUR’S CUBICLE USED TO BE NEAR THE WATERCOOLER, BUT the bosses tired of having to chat with him each time they got thirsty. So the watercooler stayed and he was moved. Now his desk is in a distant corner, as far from the locus of power as possible but nearer the cupboard of pens, which is a consolation.

You can’t dread what you can’t experience. The only death we experience is that of other people. That’s as bad as it gets.

You can’t dread what you can’t experience. The only death we experience is that of other people. That’s as bad as it gets.

We enjoy this illusion of continuity, and we call it memory. Which explains, perhaps, why our worst fear isn’t the end of life but the end of memories.”

You know, there’s that silly saying ‘We’re born alone and we die alone’—it’s nonsense. We’re surrounded at birth and surrounded at death. It is in between that we’re alone.”

saying ‘We’re born alone and we die alone’—it’s nonsense. We’re surrounded at birth and surrounded at death. It is in

The paper, however, had an idiosyncratic response: it did nothing. The corrections editor, Herman Cohen, nixed all talk of a website. “The Internet is to news,” he said, “what car horns are to music.”

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People see what they want to see and what people want to see never has anything to do with the truth. People are cowards to the last breath. I'm telling you between you and me: the human being, broadly speaking, is the closest thing there is to a rat. 

they want to watch the great masters spar, but they have no interest in real combat, when the great masters struggle against that something, that something that terrifies us all, that something that cows us and spurs us on, amid blood and mortal wounds and stench.

All criticism is ultimately a nightmare, he thought as he washed his face in the apartment where his mother's body no longer was.

AMALFITANO