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

-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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He Was Healthier Than

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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

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

Florentina Ariza Had Kept His Answer Ready For Fifty-three Years, Seven Months And Eleven Days And Nights. 'forever,' He Said.

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.

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

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.

Always Tell What You Feel. Do What You Think.

My Most Important Problem Was Destroying The Lines Of Demarcation That Separate What Seems Real From What Seems Fantastic.

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

The Only Thing Worse Than Bad Health Is A Bad Name.

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.

More Than Mother And Son, They Were Accomplices In Solitude.

There Was No Sleeper More Elegant Than She, With Her Curved Body Posed For A Dance And Her Hand Across Her Forehead, But There Was Also No One More Ferocious When Anyone Disturbed The Sensuality Of Her Thinking She Was Still Asleep When She No Longer Was.

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 Would Wake For No Reason In The Middle Of The Night, And The Memory Of The Self-absorbed Love Was Revealed To Him For What It Was: A Pitfall Of Happiness That He Despised And Desired At The Same Time, But From Which It Was Impossible To Escape.

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.

Her First Reaction Was One Of Hope, Because His Eyes Were Open And Shining With A Radiant Light She Had Never Seen There Before. She Prayed To God To Give Him At Least A Moment So That He Would Not Go Without Knowing How Much She Had Love Him Despite All Their Doubts, And She Felt An Irresistible Longing To Begin Life With Him Over Again So That They Could Say What They Had Left Unsaid And Do Everything Right That They Had Done Badly In The Past. But She Had To Give In To The Intransigence Of Death. (love In The Time Of Cholera)

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.

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.

Because He Had Not Done What She, With Her Heart In Her Mouth, Had Hoped He Would Do, Which Was To Be A Man: Deny Everything, And Swear On His Life It Was Not True, And Grow Indignant At The False Accusation, And Shout Curses At This Ill-begotten Society That Did Not Hesitate To Trample On One's Honor, And Remain Imperturbable Even When Forced With Crushing Proofs Of His Disloyalty.

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

The Spirit Of Her Invincible Heart Guided Her Through The Shadows.

Seeing Him Like This, Dressed Just For Her In So Patent A Manner, She Could Not Hold Back The Fiery Blush That Rose To Her Face. She Was Embarrassed When She Greeted Him, And He Was More Embarrassed By Her Embarrassment. The Knowledge That They Were Behaving As If They Were Sweethearts Was Even More Embarrassing, And The Knowledge That They Were Both Embarrassed Embarrassed Them So Much That Captain Samaritano Noticed It With A Tremor Of Compassion.

Caribbean Reality Resembles The Wildest Imagination.

There Had Never Been A Death So Foretold.

He Is Ugly And Sad, But He Is All Love.

A Short Time Later, When The Carpenter Was Taking Measurements For The Coffin, Through The Window They Saw A Light Rain Of Tiny Yellow Flowers Falling. They Fell On The Town All Through The Night In A Silent Storm, And They Covered The Roofs And Blocked The Doors And Smothered The Animals Who Slept Outdoors. So Many Flowers Fell From The Sky That In The Morning The Streets Were Carpeted With A Compact Cushion And They Had To Clear Them Away With Shovels And Rakes So That The Funeral Procession Could Pass By.

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.

The Only Difference Today Between Liberals And Conservatives Is That The Liberals Go To Mass At Five O'clock And The Conservatives At Eight.

Only God Knows How Much I Love You.

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

It Was Also Her Nature That Caused Her Letters To Avoid Emotional Pitfalls And Confine Themselves To Relating The Events Of Her Daily Life In The Utilitarian Style Of A Ship's Log. In Reality They Were Distracted Letters, Intended To Keep The Coals Alive Without Putting Her Hand In The Fire, While Florentino Ariza Burned Himself Alive In Every Line.

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

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

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

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.

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.

Do Not Allow Me To Forget You

The Only Everyday And Eternal Reality Was Love.

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

Justice Limps Along, But Gets There All The Same.

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 Soon Acquired The Forlorn Look That One Sees In Vegetarians.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Opened The Door A Crack Wide Enough For The Entire World To Pass Through .

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

Taught Him The Only Thing He Had To Learn About Love: That Nobody Teaches Life Anything.

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

What Does He Say?' He Asked. 'he’s Very Sad,’ Úrsula Answered, ‘because He Thinks That You’re Going To Die.' 'tell Him,' The Colonel Said, Smiling, 'that A Person Doesn’t Die When He Should But When He Can.

One Had To Live A Long Time To Know A Man's True Nature.

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.

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

The Problem With Marriage Is That It Ends Every Night After Making Love, And It Must Be Rebuilt Every Morning Before Breakfast.

No Matter What, Nobody Can Take Away The Dances You've Already Had.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

It Is Not True That People Stop Pursuing Dreams Because They Grow Old, They Grow Old Because They Stop Pursuing Dreams.

It's Enough For Me To Be Sure That You And I Exist At This Moment.

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 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.

I Plead Youth As A Mitigating Circumstance.

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

Forgive And Forget

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

She Would Defend Herself, Saying That Love, No Matter What Else It Might Be, Was A Natural Talent. She Would Say: You Are Either Born Knowing How, Or You Never Know.

There Is No Greater Glory Than To Die For Love.

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.

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.

He Governed As If He Felt Predestined To Never Die

She Had The Revelation One Sunday That While The Other Instruments Played For Everyone The Violen Played For Her Alone .

In Journalism Just One Fact That Is False Prejudices The Entire Work. In Contrast, In Fiction One Single Fact That Is True Gives Legitimacy To The Entire Work. That's The Only Difference, And It Lies In The Commitment Of The Writer. A Novelist Can Do Anything He Wants So Long As He Makes People Believe In It.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

What Uncle Leo Xiii Never Suspected Was That His Nephew's Courage Did Not Come From The Need To Survive Or From A Brute Indifference Inherited From His Father, But From A Driving Need For Love, Which No Obstacle In This World Or The Next Would Ever Break.

Unfortunately Many Young Writers Are More Concerned With Fame Than With Their Own Work... It's Much More Important To Write Than To Be Written About.

It Always Amuses Me That The Biggest Praise For My Work Comes For The Imagination, While The Truth Is That There's Not A Single Line In All My Work That Does Not Have A Basis In Reality. The Problem Is That Caribbean Reality Resembles The Wildest Imagination.

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

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.

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.

...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 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.

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

Unrequited Love

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.

I Don't Have A Method. All I Do Is Read A Lot, Think A Lot, And Rewrite Constantly. It's Not A Scientific Thing.

He Who Awaits Much Can Expect Little.

Procrastination

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

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

Hate And Love Are Reciprocal Passions.

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.

The People Of The United States Are One Of The People I Most Admire In The World. The Only Thing I Don't Understand Is Why A Country That Manages To Do So Well Cannot Do Better In Choosing Its President.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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.

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.

It Was The Year They Fell Into Devastating Love. Neither One Could Do Anything Except Think About The Other, Dream About The Other, And Wait For Letters With The Same Impatience They Felt When They Answered Them.

The Truth Is That I Know Very Few Novelists Who Have Been Satisfied With The Adaptation Of Their Books For The Screen.

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

Life Had Already Given Him Sufficient Reasons For Knowing That No Defeat Was The Final One.

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.

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

Everything That Goes Into My Mouth Seems To Make Me Fat, Everything That Comes Out Of My Mouth Embarrasses Me.

For A Week, Almost Without Speaking, They Went Ahead Like Sleepwalkers Through A Universe Of Grief, Lighted Only By The Tenuous Reflection Of Luminous Insects, And Their Lungs Were Overwhelmed By A Suffocating Smell Of Blood.

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.

Faulkner Is A Writer Who Has Had Much To Do With My Soul, But Hemingway Is The One Who Had The Most To Do With My Craft - Not Simply For His Books, But For His Astounding Knowledge Of The Aspect Of Craftsmanship In The Science Of Writing.

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

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.

Music Is Important For One's Health.

No Medicine Cures What Happiness Cannot.

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.

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.

Life Is But A Continual Succession Of Opportunities For Surviving.

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

Always Remember That The Most Important Thing In A Good Marriage Is Not Happiness, But Stability.

It Was The Last That Remained Of A Past Whose Annihilation Had Not Taken Place Because It Was Still In A Process Of Annihilation, Consuming Itself From Within, Ending At Every Moment But Never Ending Its Ending.

A Person Does Not Belong To A Place Until There Is Someone Dead Under The Ground.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

Freedom Is Often The First Casualty Of War.

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.

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.

Although Some Men Who Were Easy With Their Words Said That It Was Worth Sacrificing One’s Life For A Night Of Love With Such An Arousing Woman, The Truth Was That No One Made Any Effort To Do So. Perhaps, Not Only To Attain Her But Also To Conjure Away Her Dangers, All That Was Needed Was A Feeling As Primitive And As Simple As That Of Love, But That Was The Only Thing That Did Not Occur To Anyone.

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

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

The Fact Is That Being Seductive Is An Addiction That Can Never Be Satisfied.

Most Fatal Diseases Had Their Own Specific Odor, But ... None Was As Specific As Old Age.

People Spend A Lifetime Thinking Abouthow They Would Really Like To Live. I Asked My Friends And No One Seems To Know Very Clearly. To Me, It's Very Clear Now. I Wish My Life Could Have Been Like The Years When I Was Writing 'love In The Time Of Cholera.'

His Place Was Always Set At The Table, In Case He Rturned From The Dead Without Warning .

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.

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

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.

Life Is Not What One Lived, But What One Remembers And How One Remembers It In Order To Recount It

Knowledge And Power

When He Went Through The Kitchen He Kissed Rebeca On The Forehead. "get Those Bad Thoughts Out Of Your Head," He Told Her. "you're Going To Be Happy.

When I Sit Down To Write, Which Is The Essential Moment In My Life, I Am Completely Alone. Whenever I Write A Book, I Accumulate A Lot Of Documentation. That Background Material Is The Most Intimate Part Of My Private Life. It's A Little Embarrassing - Like Being Seen In Your Underwear It's Like The Way Magicians Never Tell Others How They Make A Dove Come Out Of A Hat.

Jealousy Knows More Than Truth Does.

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.

Tricks You Need To Transform Something Which Appears Fantastic, Unbelievable Into Something Plausible, Credible, Those I Learned From Journalism. The Key Is To Tell It Straight. It Is Done By Reporters And By Country Folk.

Children's Lies Are Signs Of Great Talent.

From The Moment I Wrote 'leaf Storm' I Realized I Wanted To Be A Writer And That Nobody Could Stop Me And That The Only Thing Left For Me To Do Was To Try To Be The Best Writer In The World.

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

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.

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

I Have Learned That A Man Has The Right And Obligation To Look Down At Another Man, Only When That Man Needs Help To Get Up From The Ground.

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

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.

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

I Ask Myself How I Could Give In To This Perpetual Vertigo That I In Fact Provoked And Feared. I Floated Among Erratic Clouds And Talked To Myself In Front Of The Mirror In The Vain Hope Of Confirming Who I Was. My Delirium Was So Great That During A Student Demonstration Complete With Rocks And Bottles, I Had To Make An Enormous Effort Not To Lead It As I Held Up A Sign That Would Sanctify My Truth: I Am Mad With Love.

What Is Essential, Therefore, Is Not That You No Longer Believe, But That God Continues To Believe In You.

They Looked Like Two Children," She Told Me. And That Thought Frightened Her, Because She'd Always Felt That Only Children Are Capable Of Everything.

Love Does Not Die, When Someone Gets Old, People Get Old, Because They Can Not Love Anymore.

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

Nothing In This World Was More Difficult Than Love.

Why Were You So Old When We Met? I Answered With The Truth: Age Isn't How Old You Are But How Old You Feel.

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.

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

As I Kissed Her The Heat Of Her Body Increased, And It Exhaled A Wild, Untamed Fragrance.

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

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

Aureliano Not Only Understood By Then, He Also Lived His Brother’s Experiences As Something Of His Own, For On One Occasion When The Latter Was Explaining In Great Detail The Mechanism Of Love, He Interrupted Him To Ask: “what Does It Feel Like?” José Arcadio Gave An Immediate Reply: “it’s Like An Earthquake.

I Would Not Have Traded The Delights Of My Suffering For Anything In The World.

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.

Never Stop Smiling Not Even When You're Sad, Someone Might Fall In Love With Your Smile.

Falling In Love

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.

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

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

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

Ultimately, Literature Is Nothing But Carpentry.

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.

Fatality Makes Us Invisible.

He Really Had Been Through Death, But He Had Returned Because He Could Not Bear The Solitude.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

Nothing One Does In Bed Is Immoral If It Helps To Perpetuate Love.

Time Was Not Passing...it Was Turning In A Circle.

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.

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.

She Had Never Imagined That Curiosty Was One Of The Many Masks Of Love .

Please Allow Me To Wipe The Slate Clean. Age Has No Reality Except In The Physical World. The Essence Of A Human Being Is Resistant To The Passage Of Time. Our Inner Lives Are Eternal, Which Is To Say That Our Spirits Remain As Youthful And Vigorous As When We Were In Full Bloom. Think Of Love As A State Of Grace, Not The Means To Anything, But The Alpha And Omega. An End In Itself. Florentino Ariza, Love In The Time Of Cholera

It Is Life, More Than Death, That Has No Limits.

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

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.

Dr Urbino Did Not Agree: In His Opinion A Liberal President Was Exactly The Same As A Conservative President, But Not As Well Dressed.

Cease, Cows, Life Is Short.

Disbelief Is More Resistant Than Faith Because It Is Sustained By The Senses.

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.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

This Was When She Asked Him Whether It Was True That Love Conquered All, As The Songs Said. 'it Is True', He Replied, 'but You Would Do Well Not To Believe It.

I’ve Remained A Virgin For You.

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.

Everything That Belonged To Her Husband Made Her Weep Again: His Tasseled Slippers, His Pajamas Under The Pillow, The Space Of His Absence In The Dressing Table Mirror, His Own Odor On Her Skin. A Vague Thought Made Her Shudder: "the People One Loves Should Take All Their Things With Them When They Die.

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

The Weak Would Never Enter The Kingdom Of Love.

Together They Had Overcome The Daily Incomprehension, The Instantaneous Hatred, The Reciprocal Nastiness, And Fabulous Flashes Of Glory In The Conjugal Conspiracy. It Was Time When They Both Loved Each Other Best, Without Hurry Or Excess, When Both Were Most Conscious Of And Grateful For Their Incredible Victories Over Adversity. Life Would Still Present Them With Other Moral Trials, Of Course, But That No Longer Mattered: They Were On The Other Shore.

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

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

I Would Give Wings To Children, But I Would Leave It To Them To Learn How To Fly By Themselves.

Four Geological Eras Had To Pass So That Human Beings Would Be Able To Outsing The Birds And Die For Love.

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

The Adolescents Of My Generation, Greedy For Life, Forgot In Body And Soul About Their Hopes For The Future Until Reality Taught Them That Tomorrow Was Not What They Had Dreamed, And They Discovered Nostalgia.

Her Nakedness Was Not Absolute, For Like Manet's _olympia__, Behind Her Ear She Had A Poisonous Flower With Orange Petals, And She Also Wore A Gold Bangle On Her Right Wrist And A Necklace Of Tiny Pearls. I Imagined I Would Never See Anything More Exciting For As Long As I Lived, And Today I Can Confirm That I Was Right.

I Would Like For My Books To Have Been Recognized Posthumously, At Least In Capitalist Countries, Where They Turn You Into A Kind Of Merchandise.

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.

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

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

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.

In All The Houses Keys To Memorizing Objects And Feelings Had Been Written. But The System Demanded So Much Vigilance And Moral Strength That Many Succumbed To The Spell Of An Imaginary Reality, One Invented By Themselves, Which Was Less Practical For Them But More Comforting.

How Will I Ever Get Out Of This Labyrinth!

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.

...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.

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