“But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.”
"París era una fiesta"
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
—¡Ay, qué hoyo! En este hoyo han de tropezar cuantos ojos le miraren...
Cervantes. Cary Grant. Y Mariana, examinando el suyo.