“I choose the labyrinth.”

“After all this time, it seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out- but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.”

“And I wrote my way out of the labyrinth.”

“Damn it," he sighed. "How will I ever get out of this Labyrinth!”

“He—that's Simon Bolivar—was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. Damn it," he sighed. "'How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!'"So what's the labyrinth?" I asked her."That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape—the world or the end of it?”

“I was born into Bolívar's labyrinth, and so I must believe in the hope of Rabelais' Great Perhaps.”

“We have to forgive to survive the labyrinth.”