if there is someone who believes you, you have no choice but to believe yourself, which makes it so terribly real.

"That's how they went along through the pages, cursing and fascinated, and La Maga would always end up curling herself up like a cat in an easy chair, tired of uncertainties, looking at how dawn was breaking over the slate roofs, through all the smoke that fills in among a pair of eyes and a closed window and an ardently useless night." -Hopscotch, Julio Cortàzar