Hopscotch (Rayuela) by Julio Cortázar. This guy write so eloquently about the human experience that is painfully beautiful. He have this short poem "Love 77" "And after doing all they do they rise from their bed, they bathe, powder and perfume their persons, they dress, and gradually return to being what they are not". If he can put so much life in only one sentence, imagine what he does to you in a full novel.