During a certain period of my life I lived alone in a tall building, close to the Rio de la Plata, in Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires is a beautiful city, but it is also a lonely city. Sometimes, late at night, while most people are having dinner, I used to go up to the top of my building. From there I could see the river, which shimmered under the moonlight, reflecting the feeble yellowish lights of the city. From time to time some sailing vessel used to pass before me, and I looked attentively as the vessel was carried away by the cold wind. I also used to watch the billions of lights that reached right up to the horizon. The city seemed to be infinite, extending itself to every corner of the world. I used to feel very small whenever I thought about this.