The Fountains Of Silence Daniel Quotes

The sweet girl in Madrid... It probably wouldn't have worked. The divide was too wide. Memories are hungry, tesoro. You musn't feed them. I'd hate to think that a teenage fling might leave you alone for the rest of your life.

Is it good or bad that the defining items of his life can fit into one small box?

Daniel looks at a photo of Ben, alone on the dance floor. He moves to a beat entirely his own, life pouring in and out of him. He lived hard and played harder. He did the work.

Like the character of Daniel, I wanted to understand. I wanted to reciprocate the affection, comprehension, and compassion that the people in Spain had shown toward me and the history within my books. As my research progressed, I realized that the refrains were accurate. Not only is it difficult for an outsider to understand, I often found myself asking, “What right do we have to history other than our own?

Miguel clears his throat. “You’re very talented. But remember, Spain is not your country. Be careful, amigo.” The Guardia Civil delivered a similar message. Daniel knows the words of caution are meant to dissuade him. They should.

Of course I am. Life’s a fight. Speaking of, I’m sure you read about Shep and the New York campaign scandal. What a doozy. But somehow the guy always lands on his feet.” Daniel thinks of the letters he wrote to the embassy and the State Department about Shep Van Dorn. Nothing came of them. Nick is right. Guys like Shep always seem to land on their feet. He should have decked him when he had the chance.

When they reach the fountain, Rafa pumps the long arm, sending water sloshing into a wooden pail held by a shrunken white-haired woman. “Should we carry the bucket for her?” asks Daniel. “She won’t let you. Besides, that woman is stronger than both of us combined,” says Rafa with a laugh.

Focus your lens on the Spanish people,” Ben lifts his cigarette and points it at Daniel, “but don’t be stupid. There is a dark side here. Sure, they’re selling sunshine and castanets to the tourists. But that’s not all Franco’s selling. One wrong move and the police will be on you. You’ll be dead in a dirt pit.

Attendants and domestics have been part of Daniel's life since birth. They fade into his background, like Franco's security guards. They are silent witnesses, seemingly blind and deaf to all conversations and indiscretions. But they are not blind and deaf. Everything is noted.

There are colors of beauty in Madrid, but also colors of hardship. Ghosts of war walk the streets in Spain. Daniel passes blind lottery vendors, citizens missing limbs, young people using canes. Should he look directly at them and acknowledge their sacrifice or look away and honor their dignity?