‘Beneath the exhausted rubble of our hearts, this miraculous potion awakened something strangely precious’ — Heinrich Böll. Snow falls lightly on the street vendors. He smells cheap tobacco, hears the squeak of chalk on a blackboard, sees a woman scrubbing a front step.

Miscellaneous reflections on truth, flowing through me. I like to think my own versions are truthful. And why not other versions too? That to which others testify is likely to bear truth.

Dream and achieve. Not ‘dreams and lasagna’! Dream and achieve. The sign says sueña y logra: “dream and achieve”. Not “dreams and lasagna”. Speak the truth, then explain the misunderstanding. It’ll stick better.

New art, ancient thought. Truth and the meaning thereof isn’t in a dictionary. It’s something you go on a journey to find. Philosophy by Guillermo Hurtado.

Patiently waiting for that person to return. We find ourselves talking too much. Sick of the sound of our own voice. Self-consciousness restricts creativity. Better to write nothing at all?

‘Little architect of the universe’. Anything can shrivel up, disappear, cease to exist. You may be bigger and stronger than everyone else, but the abyss could swallow you tomorrow.