Copy ImageNepotism is the lowest and least imaginative form of corruption
Daniel Alarcón
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Luz's manner of speaking made it clear that she had no idea what she might say next. It wasn't that she made things up, strictly speaking--only that facts were merely a point of departure for her
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That morning, he was afraid of becoming old, and it was a very specific kind of old age he feared, one which had nothing to do with the number of years since your birth. He feared the premature old age of missed opportunities
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You don't sound like a scientist; you sound like a poet." Rey smiled. "Can I be both?" "But you'd rather be a poet.""Who wouldn't?" he said
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And what does he feel?""He feels uneasy. A little afaid. Angry. Oddly, a hint of pride.""Good," Henry said. "ANd where are you?""Backstage."Henry shook his head gravely. "THere's no such thing as backstage. The play begins, and there's only the world it dramatizes. Now, where are you?""With my father, the president. In his chambers.""Right. With me. Your father. And now--this is important--do you love me?"Nelson considered this; or rather, Nelson, as Alejo, considered this."Yes," he said after a moment. "I do.""Good. Remember that. In every scene--even when you hate me, you also love me. That's why it hurts. Got it?"Nelson said that he did."Are you sure?""Yes.""Good. Because it does hurt," Henry said. "DOn't forget that. It's supposed to. Always