One Hundred Years of Solitude

of Alba, a lady of such
lineage that she made the
liver of presidents wives
quiver, a noble dame of fine
blood like her, who had the
right to sign eleven
peninsular names and who
was the only mortal creature
in that town full of bastards
who did not feel all confused
at the sight of sixteen pieces
of silverware, so that her
adulterous husband could die
of laughter afterward and say