Mi edad sexual no me preocupo nunca, porque mis poderes no dependian tanto de mi como de ellas, y ellas saben el como y el porque cuando quieren. Hoy me rio de los muchachos de ochenta que consultan al medico asustados por estos sobresaltos, sin saber que en los noventa son peores, pero ya no importan: son riesgos de estar vivo. En cambio, es un triunfo de la vida que la memoria de los viejos se pierda para las cosas que no son esenciales, pero que raras veces falle para las que de verdad nos interesan. Ciceron lo ilustro de una plumada: No hay un anciano que olvide donde escondio su tesoro.

-- Memoria de mis putas tristes,

por Gabriel Garcia Marquez

My sexual age never worried me because my powers did not depend so much on me as on women, and they know the how and the why when they want to. Today I laugh at the eighty-year-old youngsters who consult the doctor, alarmed by these sudden shocks, not knowing that in your nineties they're worse but don't matter anymore: they are the risks of being alive. On the other hand, it is a triumph of life that old people lose their memories of inessential things, though memory does not often fail with regard to things that are of real interest to us. Cicero illustrated this with the stroke of a pen: No old man forgets where he has hidden his treasure.

-- Memories of My Melancholy Whores,

translated by Edith Grossman