“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal…. A time to be born, and a time to die” . Eccleciastes.
Twenty years ago, we said: “no more” and so we left the homeland. Venezuela has not changed much since then, I am afraid. And now the country faces yet another set of problems.
In a time of nuclear threats, remembering Hiroshima becomes more relevant than ever before.
Nephews and nieces are nothing but pure joy… So, thank you, siblings!
At the end of the day, all walls become ruble or, at best, a touristic destination and a testament to human stupidity
Love and food may just be the same thing.
In the mid 80’s, I stumbled upon the “Rubayaits” by Omar Khayyam, a poet who lived in the 12th century Persia. These poems are not about love but they do speak of the transience of things – just what young passionate lovers need to hear. Thirty years later (and a waning passion), this little reading gem still rings true to me.
“The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom.” Love in the time of cholera. Gabriel García Márquez.
Your victories are our victories!. But make no mistakes: we don’t take your victories -or your defeats- too seriously.
“Everything in life is somewhere else and you get there in a car”- E.B. White