Violeta Vaal

“Writers are the exorcists of their own demons.”
― Mario Vargas-Llosa

“el infierno de los vivos no es algo que será; hay uno, es aquél que existe ya aquí, el infierno que habitamos todos los días, que formamos estando juntos. Dos maneras hay de no sufrirlo. La primera es fácil para muchos: aceptar el infierno y volverse parte de él hasta el punto de no verlo más. La segunda es peligrosa y exige atención y aprendizaje continuos: buscar y saber reconocer quién y qué, en medio del infierno, no es infierno, y hacerlo durar, y darle espacio.”
― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

“[]no hay dos miradas a una mujer desnuda iguales, no hay dos desnudeces exactas, como no existe las misma ave a cazar, aunque haya sido cazada antes, escapada y vuelta a cazar en el mismo sitio, el momento las hace diferentes.”
― Guillermo Cabrera Infante, La Habana para un infante difunto

“Noise has one advantage. It drowns out words. And suddenly he realized that all his life he had done nothing but talk, write, lecture, concoct sentences, search for formulations and amend them, so in the end no words were precise, their meanings were obliterated, their content lost, they turned into trash, chaff dust, sand; prowling through his brain, tearing at his head. they were his insomnia, his illness. And what he yearned for at that moment, vaguely, but with all his might, was unbounded music, absolute sound, a pleasant and happy all-encompassing, over-poering, window-rattling din to engulf, once and for all, the pain, the futility, the vanity of words. Music was the negation of sentences, music was the anti-word!”
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being