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Fame Is Very Agreeable, But The Bad Thing Is That It Goes On 24 Hours A Day.

-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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Fame Is Very Agreeable,

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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Fame Is Very Agreeable, But The Bad Thing Is That It Goes On 24 Hours A Day.

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The Only Regret I Will Have In Dying Is If It Is Not For Love.

Between The Covers Of The Books That No One Had Ever Read Again, In The Old Parchments Damaged By Dampness, A Livid Flower Had Prospered, And In The Air That Had Been The Purest And Brightest In The House An Unbearable Smell Of Rotten Memories Floated.

I Think That The Idea That I'm Writing For Many More People Than I Ever Imagined Has Created A Certain General Responsibility That Is Literary And Political. There's Even Pride Involved, In Not Wanting To Fall Short Of What I Did Before.

An Ash-gray Dog With A White Blaze On Its Forehead Burst Onto The Rough Terrain Of The Market On The First Sunday In December, Knocked Down Tables Of Fried Food, Overturned Indians' Stalls And Lottery Kiosks, And Bit Four People Who Happened To Cross Its Path.

In The Plenitude Of Their Relationship, Florentina Ariza Asked Himself Which Of The Two Was Love: The Turbulent Bed Or The Peaceful Sunday Afternoons, And Sara Noriega Calmed Him With The Simple Argument That Love Was Everything They Did Naked. She Said, 'spiritual Love From The Waist Up And Physical Love From The Waist Down.

Then He Made One Last Effort To Search In His Heart For The Place Where His Affection Had Rotted Away, And He Could Not Find It.

I Discovered The Miracle That All Things That Sound Are Music, Including The Dishes And Silverware In The Dishwasher, As Long As They Fulfill The Illusion Of Showing Us Where Life Is Heading.

If You're Going To Be A Writer You Have To Be One Of The Great Ones... After All, There Are Better Ways To Starve To Death.

He Was Weary Of The Uncertainty Of The Vicious Circle Of That Eternal War That Always Found Him In The Same Place, But Always Older, Wearier, Even More In The Position Of Not Knowing Why, Or How, Or Even When.

A Great Commotion Immobilized Her In Her Center Of Gravity, Planted Her In Her Place, And Her Defensive Will Was Demolished By The Irresistible Anxiety To Discover What The Orange Bells And Whistles And The Invisible Globes On The Other Side Of Death Were Like.

He Thought About His People Without Sentimentality, With A Strict Closing Of His Accounts With Life, Beginning To Understand How Much He Really Loved The People He Hated Most.

I Must Try And Break Through The Cliches About Latin America. Superpowers And Other Outsiders Have Fought Over Us For Centuries In Ways That Have Nothing To Do With Our Problems. In Reality We Are All Alone.

This Soup Tastes Like Windows

There Had Never Been A Death So Foretold.

If I Knew That Today Would Be The Last Time I’d See You, I Would Hug You Tight And Pray The Lord Be The Keeper Of Your Soul. If I Knew That This Would Be The Last Time You Pass Through This Door, I’d Embrace You, Kiss You, And Call You Back For One More. If I Knew That This Would Be The Last Time I Would Hear Your Voice, I’d Take Hold Of Each Word To Be Able To Hear It Over And Over Again. If I Knew This Is The Last Time I See You, I’d Tell You I Love You, And Would Not Just Assume Foolishly You Know It Already.

Amputees Suffer Pains, Cramps, Itches In The Leg That Is No Longer There. That Is How She Felt Without Him, Feeling His Presence Where He No Longer Was.

I Became Aware That The Invincible Power That Has Moved The World Is Unrequited, Not Happy, Love.

It Was, At Last, Real Life, With My Heart Safe And Condemned To Die Of Happy Love In The Joyful Agony Of Any Day After My Hundredth Birthday.

He Said That Love Was An Emotion Contra Natura That Condemned Two Strangers To A Base And Unhealthy Dependence, And The More Intense It Was, The More Ephemeral.

Why Do You Insist On Talking About What Does Not Exist?

He Always Considered Death An Unavoidable Professional Hazard.

Today, When I Saw You, I Realized That What Is Between Us Is Nothing More Than An Illusion.

A Man Should Have Two Wives: One To Love And One To Sew On His Buttons.

The More Transparent The Writing, The More Visible The Poetry.

Fernanda, On The Other Hand, Looked For It In Vain Along The Paths Of Her Everyday Itinerary Without Knowing That The Search For Lost Things Is Hindered By Routine Habits And That Is Why It Is So Difficult To Find Them.

For They Had Lived Together Long Enough To Know That Love Was Always Love, Anytime And Anyplace, But It Was More Solid The Closer It Came To Death.

The Problem In Public Life Is Learning To Overcome Terror; The Problem In Married Life Is Learning To Overcome Boredom.

One Minute Of Reconciliation Is Worth More Than A Whole Life Of Friendship!

Forgive And Forget

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Little By Little, Studying The Infinite Possibilities Of A Loss Of Memory, He Realized That The Day Might Come When Things Would Be Recognized By Their Inscriptions But That No One Would Remember Their Use.... At The Beginning Of The Road Into The Swamp They Put Up A Sign That Said "macondo" And Another Larger One On The Main Street That Said "god Exists".

As A Writer I'm Merely A Journalist Who Has Learned To Write Better Than Others.

It Is Impossible To Explain. But What I Like Most Is To Eat.

For Those Who May Be Hurting Over Lost Love: Don't Cry Because It Is Over... Smile Because It Happened.

Age Isn't How Old You Are But How Old You Feel.

But He Only Found Her In The Image That Saturated His Private And Terrible Solitude.

And Both Of Them Remained Floating In An Empty Universe Where The Only Everyday & Eternal Reality Was Love.

The Children Would Remember For The Rest Of Their Lives The August Solemnity With Which Their Father, Devastated By His Prolonged Vigil And By The Wraith Of His Imagination, Revealed His Discovery To Them: 'the World Is Round, Like An Orange.

El Mundo Habrá Acabado De Joderse -dijo Entonces- El Día En Que Los Hombres Viajen En Primera Clase Y La Literatura En El Vagón De Carga.

He Dared To Explore Her Withered Neck W/his Fingertips…her Hips W/their Decaying Bones, Her Thighs With Their Aging Veins.

How Strange Women Are.

I Was Asked The Other Day If I Would Be Interested In The Nobel Prize, But I Think That For Me It Would Be An Absolute Catastrophe. I Would Certainly Be Interested In Deserving It, But To Receive It Would Be Terrible. It Would Just Complicate Even More The Problems Of Fame. The Only Thing I Really Regret In Life Is Not Having A Daughter.

She Wanted To Be Herself Again, To Recover All That She Had Been Obliged To Give Up In Half A Century Of Servitude That Had Doubtless Made Her Happy But Which, Once Her Husband Was Dead, Did Not Leave Her Even The Vestiges Of Her Identity.

Before Reaching The Final Line, However, He Had Already Understood That He Would Never Leave That Room, For It Was Foreseen That The City Of Mirrors (or Mirages) Would Be Wiped Out By The Wind And Exiled From The Memory Of Men At The Precise Moment When Aureliano Babilonia Would Finish Deciphering The Parchments, And That Everything Written On Them Was Unrepeatable Since Time Immemorial And Forever More, Because Races Condemned To One Hundred Years Of Solitude Did Not Have A Second Opportunity On Earth.

Fiction Was Invented The Day Jonas Arrived Home And Told His Wife That He Was Three Days Late Because He Had Been Swallowed By A Whale.

This Was When I Heard That The First Symptom Of Old Age Is When You Begin To Resemble Your Father.

Her Laugh Was Sad And Taciturn, Seemingly Detached From Any Feeling Of The Moment, Like Something She Kept In The Cupboard And Took Out Only When She Had To, Using It With No Feeling Of Ownership, As If The Infrequency Of Her Smiles Had Made Her Forget The Normal Way To Use Them.

I Think Just The Opposite Is True: Love Is An Ideology For Eternal Militants, And The More Misfortunes Life Tries To Burden Us With, The More Essential Love Becomes.

"things Have A Life Of Their Own," The Gypsy Proclaimed With A Harsh Accent. "it's Simply A Matter Of Waking Up Their Souls."

Fame Invades Your Private Life. It Takes Away From The Time That You Spend With Friends, And The Time That You Can Work. It Tends To Isolate You From The Real World.

Cease, Cows, Life Is Short.

Blood Circulated Through Her Veins With The Fluidity Of A Song That Branched Off Into The Most Hidden Areas Of Her Body And Returned To Her Heart, Purified By Love.

No Medicine Cures What Happiness Cannot.

They Were So Close To Each Other That They Preferred Death To Separation.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Very Well, I Will Marry You If You Promise Not To Make Me Eat Eggplant.

Love Becomes Greater And Nobler In Calamity.

Just Because Someone Does Not Love You As You Want, It Does Not Mean That You Do Not Love With All His Being.

What Matters In Life Is Not What Happens To You But What You Remember And How You Remember It.

It Had To Teach Her To Think Of Love As A State Of Grace: Not The Means To Anything But The Alpha And Omega, An End It Itself.

The People One Loves Should Take All Their Things With Them When They Die.

Your First Realization When You Become An Important Person Is That All Day And All Night, Whatever The Circumstances, People Want To Hear You Talk About Yourself.

Fame Is Very Agreeable, But The Bad Thing Is That It Goes On 24 Hours A Day.

When I Stand And Contemplate My Fate And See The Path Along Which You Have Led Me, I Reach My End, For Artless I Surrendered To One Who Is My Undoing And My End.

Then The Writing Became So Fluid That I Sometimes Felt As If I Were Writing For The Sheer Pleasure Of Telling A Story, Which May Be The Human Condition That Most Resembles Levitation.

To Oppression, Plundering And Abandonment, We Respond With Life.

All Human Beings Have Three Lives: Public, Private, And Secret.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Do Not Allow Me To Forget You

Tell Him,' The Colonel Said, Smiling, 'that A Person Doesn’t Die When He Should But When He Can.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

The Truth Was That I Could Not Manage My Soul, And I Was Becoming Aware Of Old Age Because Of My Weakness In The Face Of Love.

It's Much More Important To Write Than To Be Written About.

If You Love Something - Let. If It Is Yours - It Will Come Back. I Love You Not Because Of Who You Are, But For Who I Am When I'm With You.

Don't Open That Door," She Said. "the Hallway Is Full Of Difficult Dreams." And I Asked Her: "how Do You Know?" And She Told Me: "because I Was There A Moment Ago And I Had To Come Back When I Discovered I Was Sleeping On My Heart.

If God Hadn't Rested On Sunday, He Would Have Had Time To Finish The World.

Crazy People Are Not Crazy If One Accepts Their Reasoning.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Thinking That It Would Console Him, She Took A Piece Of Charcoal And Erased The Innumerable Loves That He Still Owed Her For, And She Voluntarily Brought Up Her Own Most Solitary Sadnesses So As Not To Leave Him Alone In His Weeping.

In That Macondo Forgotten Even By The Birds, Where The Dust And The Heat Had Become So Strong That It Was Difficult To Breathe, Secluded By Solitude And Love And By The Solitude Of Love In A House Where It Was Almost Impossible To Sleep Because Of The Noise Of The Red Ants, Aureliano, And Amaranta Úrsula Were The Only Happy Beings, And The Most Happy On The Face Of The Earth.

I Must Warn You That The Books I Like Are Not Necessarily The Ones I Think Are The Best. I Like Them For Various Reasons Not Always Easy To Explain.

A Man Knows When He Is Growing Old Because He Begins To Look Like His Father.

The Anxiety Of Falling In Love Could Not Find Repose Except In Bed.

Falling In Love

It Was As If They Had Leapt Over The Arduous Cavalry Of Conjugal Life And Gone Straight To The Heart Of Love. They Were Together In Silence Like An Old Married Couple Wary Of Life, Beyond The Pitfalls Of Passion, Beyond The Brutal Mockery Of Hope And The Phantoms Of Disillusion: Beyond Love. For They Had Lived Together Long Enough To Know That Love Was Always Love, Anytime And Anyplace, But It Was More Solid The Closer It Came To Death.

He Was Healthier Than The Rest Of Us, But When You Listened With The Stethoscope You Could Hear The Tears Bubbling Inside His Heart.

There's No Greater Misfortune Than Dying Alone.

An Early-rising Man Is A Good Spouse But A Bad Husband.

Nobody Deserves Your Tears, But Whoever Deserves Them Will Not Make You Cry.

The Rain Would Not Have Bothered Fernanda, After All, Her Whole Life Had Been Spent As If It Were Raining.

To Him She Seemed So Beautiful, So Seductive, So Different From Ordinary People, That He Could Not Understand Why No One Was As Disturbed As He By The Clicking Of Her Heels On The Paving Stones, Why No One Else's Heart Was Wild With The Breeze Stirred By The Sighs Of Her Veils, Why Everyone Did Not Go Mad With The Movements Of Her Braid, The Flight Of Her Hands, The Gold Of Her Laughter. He Had Not Missed A Single One Of Her Gestures, Not One Of The Indications Of Her Character, But He Did Not Dare Approach Her For Fear Of Destroying The Spell.

He Could Not Understand Why He Had Needed So Many Words To Explain What He Felt In War Because One Was Enough: Fear. ~jose Aracadio Segundo Buendia After The Second Banana Slaughter

I Never Had Intimate Friends, And The Few Who Came Close Are In New York. By Which I Mean They're Dead, Because That's Where I Suppose Condemned Souls Go In Order Not To Endure The Truth Of Their Past Lives.

Only God Knows How Much I Love You.

For You Was I Born, For You Do I Have Life, For You Will I Die, For You Am I Now Dying.

The Bells Of Glory That Announced To The World The Good News That The Uncountable Time Of Eternity Had Come To An End

A True Friend Is The One Who Holds Your Hand And Touches Your Heart.

He Soon Acquired The Forlorn Look That One Sees In Vegetarians.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Always Tell What You Feel. Do What You Think.

And Realized That Death Was Not Only A Permanent Probability, As He Had Always Believed, But An Immediate Reality.

We'll Grow Old Waiting.

He Recognized Her Despite The Uproar, Through His Tears Of Unrepeatable Sorrow At Dying Without Her, And He Looked At Her For The Last And Final Time With Eyes More Luminous, More Grief-stricken, More Grateful Than She Had Ever Seen Them In Half A Century Of A Shared Life, And He Managed To Say To Her With His Last Breath: “only God Knows How Much I Loved You

Humanity, Like Armies In The Field, Advances At The Speed Of The Slowest.

The Truth Is That The First Changes Are So Slow They Pass Almost Unnoticed, And You Go On Seeing Yourself As You Always Were, From The Inside, But Others Observe You From The Outside.

I Want The Same One, The Way She Always Is, Without Failures, Without Fights, Without Bad Memories.

Perhaps This Is What The Stories Meant When They Called Somebody Heartsick. Your Heart And Your Stomach And Your Whole Insides Felt Empty And Hollow And Aching.

He Sank Into The Rocking Chair, The Same One In Which Rebecca Had Sat During The Early Days Of The House To Give Embroidery Lessons, And In Which Amaranta Had Played Chinese Checkers With Colonel Gerineldo Marquez, And In Which Amarana Ursula Had Sewn The Tiny Clothing For The Child, And In That Flash Of Lucidity He Became Aware That He Was Unable To Bear In His Soul The Crushing Weight Of So Much Past.

You Have To Have Spent The Night At Sea, Sitting In A Life Raft And Looking At Your Watch, To Know That The Night Is Immeasurably Longer Than The Day.

No Matter What You Do This Year Or In The Next Hundred, You Will Be Dead Forever.

And Nevertheless, When They Watched Him Leave The House, This Man They Themselves Had Urged To Conquer The World, Then They Were The Ones Left With The Terror That He Would Never Return. That Was Their Life. Love, If It Existed, Was Something Separate: Another Life.

Death Really Did Not Matter To Him But Life Did, And Therefore The Sensation He Felt When They Gave Their Decision Was Not A Feeling Of Fear But Of Nostalgia.

Life Is But A Continual Succession Of Opportunities For Surviving.

Ultimately, Literature Is Nothing But Carpentry.

Jealousy Knows More Than Truth Does.

Caribbean Reality Resembles The Wildest Imagination.

He Who Awaits Much Can Expect Little.

Procrastination

Wisdom Comes To Us When It Can No Longer Do Any Good.

Nobody Is Worth Crying For, And Those That Are Worth It Will Not Make You Cry.

She Always Had A Headache, Or It Was Too Hot, Always, Or She Pretended To Be Asleep, Or She Had Her Period Again, Her Period, Always Her Period. So Much So That Dr. Urbino Had Dared To Say In Class, Only For The Relief Of Unburdening Himself Without Confession, That After Ten Years Of Marriage Women Had Their Periods As Often As Threes Times A Week.

A Famous Writer Who Wants To Continue Writing Has To Be Constantly Defending Himself Against Fame.

He Pleaded So Much That He Lost His Voice. His Bones Began To Fill With Words.

She Would Say, "someone Should Invent Something To Do With Things You Cannot Use Anymore But That You Still Cannot Throw Out.

One Could Be Happy Not Only Without Love, But Despite It.

In That Way The Long-awaited Visit, For Which Both Had Prepared Questions And Had Even Anticipated Answers, Was Once More The Usual Everyday Conversation.

Fatality Makes Us Invisible.

Children's Lies Are Signs Of Great Talent.

There Was A House At The Foot Of The Tower, Close To The Thunder Of The Waves Breaking Against The Cliffs, Where Love Was More Intense Because It Seemed Like A Shipwreck.

She Likes To Try Everything, Out Of Curiosity, But She'll Be Sorry If She Isn't Guided By Her Heart.

He Did Not Dare To Console Her, Knowing That It Would Have Been Like Consoling A Tiger Run Thru By A Spear.

Carmelia Montiel, A Twenty-year-old Virgin, Had Just Bathed In Orange-blossom Water And Was Strewing Rosemary Leaves On Pilar Ternera's Bed When The Shot Rang Out. Aureliano José Had Been Destined To Find With Her The Happiness That Amaranta Had Denied Him, To Have Seven Children, And To Die In Her Arms Of Old Age, But The Bullet That Entered His Back And Shattered His Chest Had Been Directed By A Wrong Interpretation Of The Cards.

...the Girl Raised Her Eyes To See Who Was Passing By The Window, And That Casual Glance Was The Beginning Of A Cataclysm Of Love That Still Had Not Ended Half A Century Later.

The Secret Of A Good Old Age Is Simply An Honorable Pact With Solitude.

Each Man Is Master Of His Own Death, And All That We Can Do When The Time Comes Is To Help Him Die Without Fear Of Pain.

In The Beginning, When The World Was New And Nothing Had A Name, My Father Took Me To See The Ice.

I Always Had Understood That Dying Of Love Was Mere Poetic License.

Tell Him Yes. Even If You Are Dying Of Fear, Even If You Are Sorry Later, Because Whatever You Do, You Will Be Sorry All The Rest Of Your Life If You Say No.

Rest Of Your Life

She Felt The Abyss Of Disenchantment.

The Heart's Memory Eliminates The Bad And Magnifies The Good.

One Can Be In Love With Several People At The Same Time, Feel The Sorrow With Each, And Not Betray Any Of Them.

I’ve Remained A Virgin For You.

He Shook My Hand And Said Goodbye With A Sentence That Might Have Been Either Good Advice Or A Threat: "take Good Care Of Yourself.

Just Imagine, A Cow On The Balcony Of The Nation, What An Awful Thing, What A Shitty Country.

A Lie Is More Comfortable Than Doubt, More Useful Than Love, More Lasting Than Truth.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

He Thought That The World Would Make More Rapid Progress Without The Burden Of Old People.

Jose Palacios, His Oldest Servant, Found Him Floating Naked With His Eyes Open In The Purifying Waters Of His Bath And Thought He Had Drowned.

At Some Point, You No Longer Feel Pain. Sensation Disappears And Reason Is Dulled, Until You Lose All Grasp Of Time And Place.

Surrealism Runs Through The Streets.

The World Is Divided Into Those Who Screw And Those Who Do Not. He Distrusted Those Who Did Not—when They Strayed Form The Straight And Narrow It Was Something So Unusual For Them That They Bragged About Love As If They Had Just Invented It.

He Repeated Until His Dying Day That There Was No One With More Common Sense, No Stonecutter More Obstinate, No Manager More Lucid Or Dangerous, Than A Poet.

The War Is In The Mountains,” He Said. “for As Long As I Can Remember, They Have Killed Us In The Cities With Decrees, Not With Bullets.

It Was The Time When They Loved Each Other Best, Without Hurry Or Excess, When Both Were Most Conscious Of And Grateful For Their Incredible Victories Over Adversity.

The House Became Full Of Love. Aureliano Expressed It In Poetry That Had No Beginning And No End. He Would Write It On The Harsh Pieces Of Parchment That Melquiades Gave Him, On The Bathroom Walls, On The Skin Of His Arms, And In All Of It Remedios Would Appear Transfigured: Remedios In The Soporific Air Of Two In The Afternoon, Remedios In The Soft Breath Of The Roses, Remedios In The Water-clock Secrets Of The Moths, Remedios In The Steaming Morning Bread, Remedios Everywhere And Remedios Forever.

Everyone Has Three Lives: A Public Life, A Private Life, And A Secret Life.

One Of The Most Difficult Things Is The First Paragraph. I Have Spent Many Months On A First Paragraph, And Once I Get It, The Rest Just Comes Out Very Easily.

The Year I Turned Ninety, I Wanted To Give Myself The Gift Of A Night Of Wild Love With An Adolescent Virgin.

Ultimately, Literature Is Nothing But Carpentry. With Both You Are Working With Reality, A Material Just As Hard As Wood.

Horses Frighten Me As Much As Chickens Do,’ He Said. ‘that Is Too Bad, Because Lack Of Communication With Horses Has Impeded Human Progress,’ Said Abrenuncio. ‘if We Ever Broke Down The Barriers, We Could Produce The Centaur.

The World Was Reduced To The Surface Of Her Skin And Her Inner Self Was Safe From All Bitterness.

I Don't Know Who Said That Novelists Read The Novels Of Others Only To Figure Out How They Are Written. I Believe It's True. We Aren't Satisfied With The Secrets Exposed On The Surface Of The Page: We Turn The Book Around To Find The Seams.

Don't Struggle So Much, The Best Things Happen When Not Expected.

And The Two Of Them Loved Each Other For A Long Time In Silence Without Making Love Again.

But When A Woman Decides To Sleep With A Man, There Is No Wall She Will Not Scale, No Fortress She Will Not Destroy, No Moral Consideration She Will Not Ignore At Its Very Root: There Is No God Worth Worrying About.

She Was A Ghost In A Strange House That Overnight Had Become Immense And Solitary And Through Which She Wandered Without Purpose, Asking Herself In Anguish Which One Of Them Was Deader: The Man Who Had Died Or The Woman He Had Left Behind.

There Is No Greater Glory Than To Die For Love.

His Examination Revealed That He Had No Fever, No Pain Anywhere, And That His Only Concrete Feeling Was An Urgent Desire To Die. All That Was Needed Was Shrewd Questioning...to Conclude Once Again That The Symptoms Of Love Were The Same As Those Of Cholera.

Both Looked Back Then On The Wild Revelry...and They Lamented That It Had Cost Them So Much Of Their Lives To Find The Paradise Of Shared Solitude.

A Man Only Has The Right To Look Down At Another When He Helps Him To Lift Himself Up.

The Weak Would Never Enter The Kingdom Of Love.

It Was A Lone Voice In The Middle Of The Ocean, But It Was Heard At Great Depth And Great Distance.

Wherever They Might Be They Always Remember That The Past Was A Lie, That Memory Has No Return, That Every Spring Gone By Could Never Be Recovered, And That The Wildest And Most Tenacious Love Was An Ephemeral Truth In The End.

It Was Inevitable: The Scent Of Bitter Almonds Always Reminded Him Of The Fate Of Unrequited Love.

Unrequited Love

His Mysterious Resources Had Awakened In Her A Curiosity That Was Difficult To Resist, But She Had Never Imagined That Curiosity Was One Of The Many Masks Of Love.

The Interpretation Of Our Reality Through Patterns Not Our Own, Serves Only To Make Us Ever More Unknown, Ever Less Free, Ever More Solitary.

In Her Final Years She Would Still Recall The Trip That, With The Perverse Lucidity Of Nostalgia, Became More And More Recent In Her Memory.

There [is] No Innocence More Dangerous Than The Innocence Of Age.

He Spent Six Hours Examining Things, Trying To Find A Difference From Their Appearance On The Previous Day In The Hope Of Discovering In Them Some Change That Would Reveal The Passage Of Time.

That's Maybe The Reason He Does So Many Things So That He Will Not Have To Think .

The Woman Let Out An Expansive Laugh That Resounded Through The House Like A Spray Of Broken Glass.

If Men Gave Birth, They'd Be Less Inconsiderate.

Become A Better Person And Be Sure To Know Who You Are, Before Meeting Someone New And Hoping That Person Knows Who You Are

Meeting Someone

Once Again She Shuddered With The Evidence That Time Was Not Passing, As She Had Just Admitted, But That It Was Turning In A Circle.

A Process Of Aging Had Taken Place In Him That Was So Rapid And Critical That Soon He Was Being Treated As One Of Those Useless Great-grandfathers Who Wander About The Bedroom Like Shades, Dragging Their Feet, Remembering Better Times Aloud, And Whom No One Bother About Or Remembers Really Until The Morning They Find Them Dead In Their Bed.

Lost In The Solitude Of His Immense Power, He Began To Lose Direction.

While A Person Does Not Give Up On Sex, Sex Does Not Give Up On The Person.

He Said That People Who Loved [animals] To Excess Were Capable Of The Worst Cruelties Toward Human Beings. He Said That Dogs Were Not Loyal But Servile, That Cats Were Opportunists And Traitors, That Peacocks Were Heralds Of Death, That Macaws Were Simply Decorative Annoyances, That Rabbits Fomented Greed, That Monkeys Carried The Fever Of Lust, And That Roosters Were Damned Because They Had Been Complicit In The Three Denials Of Christ.

...and The Cries Of The Birds And The Uproar Of The Monkeys Became More And More Remote, And The World Became Eternally Sad. The Men On The Expedition Felt Overwhelmed By Their Most Ancient Memories In That Paradise Of Dampness And Silence, Going Back To Before Original Sin, As Their Boots Sank Into Pools Of Steaming Oil And Their Machetes Destroyed Bloody Lilies And Golden Salamanders.

He Allowed Himself To Be Swayed By His Conviction That Human Beings Are Not Born Once And For All On The Day Their Mothers Give Birth To Them, But That Life Obliges Them Over And Over Again To Give Birth To Themselves.

Over The Weekend The Vultures Got Into The Presidential Palace By Pecking Through The Screens On The Balcony Windows And The Flapping Of Their Wings Stirred Up The Stagnant Time Inside, And At Dawn On Monday The City Awoke Out Of Its Lethargy Of Centuries With The Warm, Soft Breeze Of A Great Man Dead And Rotting Grandeur.

And Again, As Always, After So Many Years We Were Still In The Same Place We Always Were.

Life In The World... Was Nothing More Than A System Of Atavistic Contracts, Banal Ceremonies, Preordained Words, With Which People Entertained Each Other In Society In Order Not To Commit Murder. The Dominant Sign In That Paradise Of Provincial Frivolity Was Fear Of The Unknown.

She Knew That It Would Not Be Easy To Submit To His Miserliness, Or The Foolishness Of His Premature Appearance Of Age, Or His Maniacal Sense Of Order, Or His Eagerness To As For Everything And Give Nothing At All In Return, But Despite All This, No Man Was Better Company Because No Other Man In The World Was So In Need Of Love.

Hate And Love Are Reciprocal Passions.

I Do Not Believe There Is A Method Better Than Montessori For Making Children Sensitive To The Beauties Of The World And Awakening Their Curiosity Regarding The Secrets Of Life.

With Her Florentino Ariza Learned What He Had Already Experienced Many Times Without Realizing It: That One Can Be In Love With Several People At The Same Time, Feel The Same Sorrow With Each, And Not Betray Any Of Them. Alone In The Midst Of The Crowd On The Pier, He Said To Himself In A Flash Of Anger: 'my Heart Has More Rooms Than A Whorehouse.

Give Me A Prejudice And I Will Move The World.

In The End All Books Are Written For Your Friends. The Problem After Writing One Hundred Years Of Solitude Was That Now I No Longer Know Whom Of The Millions Of Readers I Am Writing For; This Upsets And Inhibits Me. It's Like A Million Eyes Are Looking At You And You Don't Really Know What They Think.

Santiago Nasar Had Often Told Me That The Smell Of Closed-in Flowers Had An Immediate Relation To Death For Him.

We Had Made Love Without Love, Half-dressed Most Of The Time And Always In The Dark So We Could Imagine Ourselves As Better Than We Were.

I'll Never Fall In Love Again... It's Like Having Two Souls At The Same Time.

Falling In Love

She Sensed It, Saw My Eyes Wet With Tears, And Only Then Must Have Discovered I Was No Longer The Man I Had Been, And I Endured Her Glance With A Courage I Never Thought I Had.

The First Of The Line Is Tied To A Tree And The Last Is Being Eaten By The Ants .

I Have Never Done Anything Except Write, But I Don't Possess The Vocation Or Talents Of A Narrator, Have No Knowledge At All Of The Laws Of Dramatic Composition, And If I Have Embarked Upon This Enterprise It Is Because I Trust In The Light Shed By How Much I Have Read In My Life.

Let Me Stay Here," He Said. "there Was Soap.

She Let Him Finish, Scratching His Head With The Tips Of Her Fingers, And Without His Having Revealed That He Was Weeping From Love, She Recognized Immediately The Oldest Sobs In The History Of Man.

She Discovered With Great Delight That One Does Not Love One's Children Just Because They Are One's Children But Because Of The Friendship Formed While Raising Them.

Most Critics Don't Realize That A Novel Like One Hundred Years Of Solitude Is A Bit Of A Joke, Full Of Signals To Close Friends; And So, With Some Pre-ordained Right To Pontificate They Take On The Responsibility Of Decoding The Book And Risk Making Terrible Fools Of Themselves.

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