One Hundred Years of Solitude

worms, and still looking for
the course to Guadeloupe.
Úrsula would weep at the
table as if she were reading
the letters that had never
arrived and in which José
Arcadio told about his deeds
and misadventures. And there
was so much of a home here
for you, my son, she would
sob, and so much food
thrown to the hogs! But
underneath it an she could not
conceive that the boy the