Julio Cortazar Hopscotch Quotes

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She would smile and show no surprise, convinced as she was, the same as I, that casual meetings are apt to be just the opposite, and that people who make dates are the same kind who need lines on their writing paper, or who always squeeze up from the bottom on a tube of toothpaste.
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
Hay ausencias que representan un verdadero triunfo
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
Buscás eso que llamas la armonía, pero la buscás justo ahí donde acabás de decir que no está, entre los amigos, la familia, en la ciudad...
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
No estábamos enamorados, hacíamos el amor con un virtuosismo desapegado y crítico, pero después caíamos en silecios terribles y la espuma de los vasos de cerveza se iba poniendo como estopa, se entibiaba y contraía mientras nos mirábamos y sentíamos que eso era el tiempo...
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
Sometimes I am convinced that triangle is another name for stupidity, that eight times eight is madness or a dog.
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
Chaque fois je vais sentir moins et souvenant plus, mais quelle est la mémoire, mais le langage des sentiments, un dictionnaire des visages et des jours et des parfums qui reviennent comme des verbes et des adjectifs dans la parole." Marelle
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
As soon as he began to amalate the noeme, the clemise began to smother her and they fell into hydromuries, into savage ambonies, into exasperating sustales. Each time that he tried to relamate the hairincops, he became entangled in a whining grimate and had to face up to envulsioning the novalisk, feeling how little by little the arnees would spejune, were becoming peltronated, redoblated, until they were stretched out like the ergomanine trimalciate which drops a few filures of cariaconce. And it was still only the beginning, because right away she tordled her hurgales, allowing him gently to bring up his orfelunes. No sooner had they cofeathered than something like a ulucord encrestored them, extrajuxted them, and paramoved them, suddenly it was the clinon, the sterfurous convulcant of matericks, the slobberdigging raimouth of the orgumion.
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)
No hay mensaje, hay mensajeros y eso es el mensaje, así como el amor es el que ama.
Julio Cortázar (Hopscotch)