"Our city is like a sophisticated dowager whose soul feeds on cynicism, a place where the mere mention of the unknown and unknowable occasions peals of bitter laughter." Chap. 1, p. 1

"Reading it reminded me of a stone sculpture. I could feel the rough texture, see the chisel marks, and I knew it wouldn't be ignored." Chap. 2, p. 20

" 'That's what has become of Argentina,' he said bitterly. 'A house full of tears." Chap. 2, p. 21

"Their familiar eyes are translucent, allowing you inside. But with tragedy, it's different. The irises grow darker, become more expressive, the feeling so concentrated that you wonder if it isn't the eyes, after all, which are the true seat of understanding." Chap. 3, p. 25

"Carlos suddenly felt very close to Enrico, as if he'd entered the boy's mind, and it was then, with no warning, no intimation of any kind, that the story began to...