Sylvia Veronica

“During a party, Luis Buñuel, seduced by Carrington’s beauty and emboldened by the notion that she had transcended all bourgeois morality, proposed (with his characteristic bluntness) that she become his mistress. Without even waiting for her answer, he gave her the key to the secret studio that he used as a love nest and told her to meet him at three o’clock the next afternoon. Early the next morning, Leonora went to visit the place alone. She found it tasteless: It looked exactly like a motel room. Taking advantage of the fact that she was in her menstrual period, she covered her hands with blood and used them to make bloody handprints all over the walls in order to provide a bit of decoration for that anonymous, impersonal room. Buñuel never spoke to her again.”
― Alejandro Jodorowsky, The Spiritual Journey of Alejandro Jodorowsky: The Creator of El Topo

“Do you believe, she went on, that the past dies?

Yes, said Margaret. Yes, if the present cuts its throat.”
― Leonora Carrington, The Seventh Horse and Other Tales

“—¿Me querrás siempre?
—Siempre, Aura, te amaré para siempre.
—¿Siempre? ¿Me lo juras?
—Te lo juro.
—¿Aunque envejezca? ¿Aunque pierda mi belleza? ¿Aunque tenga el pelo blanco?
—Siempre, mi amor, siempre.
—¿Aunque muera, Felipe? ¿Me amarás siempre, aunque muera?
—Siempre, siempre. Te lo juro. Nada puede separarme de ti.”
― Carlos Fuentes, Aura

“Perhaps my favorite crone heroine of all time is Marian Leatherby, the deaf, toothless, ninety-two-year-old protagonist of The Hearing Trumpet, a novel written by Surrealist luminary Leonora Carrington. Marian sports a short gray beard that she finds “rather gallant,” and she has a dear geriatric friend named Carmella who states, “People under seventy and over seven are very unreliable if they are not cats.”
― Pam Grossman, Waking the Witch: Reflections on Women, Magic, and Power