Rita Voo

“It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“He dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of living each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Úrsula se perguntava se não era preferível se deitar logo de uma vez na sepultura e lhe jogarem a terra por cima, e perguntava a Deus, sem medo, se realmente acreditava que as pessoas eram feitas de ferro para suportar tantas penas e mortificações. E perguntando e perguntando ia atiçando sua própria perturbação e sentia desejos irreprimíveis de se soltar e não ter papas na língua como um forasteiro e de se permitir afinal um instante de rebeldia, o instante tantas vezes desejado e tantas vezes adiado, para cortar a resignação pela raiz e cagar de uma vez para tudo e tirar do coração os infinitos montes de palavrões que tivera que engolir durante um século inteiro de conformismo.
– Porra! – gritou.
Amaranta, que começava a colocar a roupa no baú, pensou que ela tinha sido picada por um escorpião.
– Onde está? – perguntou alarmada.
– O quê?
– O animal! – esclareceu Amaranta.
Úrsula pôs o dedo no coração.
– Aqui – disse”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“- Is it their fault if they think that it’s good to work?

- No, said Colin, it’s not their fault. It’s because they’ve been told : work is sacred, it’s good, it’s nice, it’s what counts before anything, and only those who work have the right to everything. The only thing is, it’s been set up so that they work all the time so they can’t take advantage of it.

- But then they’re stupid, said Chloe.

- Yes, they’re stupid, said Colin. That’s why they agree with those that made them believe that work is the best thing there is. That saves them from thinking and finding a way to progress and to no longer work.”
― Boris Vian, L'écume des jours