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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.

-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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I Was Asked The

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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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.

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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.

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.

I’ve Remained A Virgin For You.

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.

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.

Jealousy Knows More Than Truth Does.

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

An Artisan Without Memories, Whose Only Dream Was To Die Of Fatigue In The Oblivion And Misery Of His Little Gold Fishes.

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.

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.

But He Could Not Renounce His Infinite Capacity For Illusion At The Very Moment He Needed It Most... He Saw Fireflies Where There Were None.

Ah, Me, If This Is Love, Then How It Torments.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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

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

Shame Has Poor Memory.

Surrealism Runs Through The Streets.

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.

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

It Was A Love Of Perpetual Flight.

There Had Never Been A Death So Foretold.

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

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

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

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.

Intrigued By That Enigma, He Dug So Deeply Into Her Sentiments That In Search Of Interest He Found Love, Because By Trying To Make Her Love Him He Ended Up Falling In Love With Her.

Falling In Love

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

When One Reaches Absolute Power, One Loses Total Contact With Reality.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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.

I Don't Believe In God, But I'm Afraid Of Him.

...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.

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.

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.

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

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

He Always Considered Death An Unavoidable Professional Hazard.

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.

It Is Not That The Girl Is Unfit For Everything, It Is That She Is Not Of This World.

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.

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

How Strange Women Are.

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

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

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.

She Felt The Abyss Of Disenchantment.

Caribbean Reality Resembles The Wildest Imagination.

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

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

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.

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.

All My Life, I've Been Frightened At The Moment I Sit Down To Write.

In Some Way Impossible To Ascertain, After So Many Years Of Absense, Jose Arcadio Was Still An Autumnal Child, Terribly Sad And Solitary.

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

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.

Life Is But A Continual Succession Of Opportunities For Surviving.

For A Week I Did Not Take Off My Mechanic's Coverall Day Or Night I Did Not Bathe Or Shave Or Brush My Teeth Because Love Taught Me Too Late That You Groom Yourself For Someone You Dress And Perfume Yourself For Someone And I'd Never Had Anyone To Do That For.

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

A Falcon Who Chases A Warlike Crane Can Only Hope For A Life Of Pain.

Crazy People Are Not Crazy If One Accepts Their Reasoning.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

I Have Waited For This Opportunity For More Than Half A Century, To Repeat To You Once Again My Vow Of Eternal Fidelity And Everlasting Love.

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.

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

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

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

We'll Grow Old Waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

He Governed As If He Felt Predestined To Never Die

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

In The End All Books Are Written For Your Friends.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

She Would Not Shed A Tear, She Would Not Waste The Rest Of Her Years Simmering In The Maggot Broth Of Memory.

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

The Only Thing He Could Do To Stay Alive Was Not To Allow Himself The Anguish Of That Memory. He Erased It From His Mind, Although From Time To Time In The Years That Were Left To Him He Would Feel It Revive, With No Warning And For No Reason, Like The Sudden Pang Of An Old Scar.

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

When I Wake Up," He Said, "remind Me That I'm Going To Marry Her.

Over The Years They Both Reached The Same Wise Conclusion By Different Paths: It Was Not Possible To Live Together In Any Other Way, Or Love In Any Other Way, And Nothing In This World Was More Difficult Than Love.

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.

It Was Then That She Realized That The Yellow Butterflies Preceded The Appearances Of Mauricio Babilonia.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Nobody Teaches Life Anything.

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

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.

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.

Thus They Went On Living In A Reality That Was Slipping Away, Momentarily Captured By Words, But Which Would Escape Irremediably When They Forgot The Values Of The Written Letters.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

Love Is Not A Condition Of The Spirit But A Sign Of The Zodiac.

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

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.

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.

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.'

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.

I Can't Think Of Any One Film That Improved On A Good Novel, But I Can Think Of Many Good Films That Came From Very Bad Novels.

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

Forgive And Forget

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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 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.

Nothing In This World Was More Difficult Than Love.

Morality, Too, Is A Question Of Time.

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.

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.

You Can't Eat Hope,' The Woman Said. You Can't Eat It, But It Sustains You,' The Colonel Replied.

To All, I Would Say How Mistaken They Are When They Think That They Stop Falling In Love When They Grow Old, Without Knowing That They Grow Old When They Stop Falling In Love...

Falling In Love

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.

Love Becomes Greater And Nobler In Calamity.

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

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.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

Curiosity Is One Of The Many Masks Of Love.

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.

There Is Bound To Be Someone Driven Mad By Love Who Will Give You The Chance To Study The Effects Of Gold Cyanide On A Cadaver. And When You Do Find One, Observe With Care, They Almost Always Have Crystals In Their Heart

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

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

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.

Gaston Was Not Only A Fierce Lover, With Endless Wisdom And Imagination, But He Was Also, Perhaps, The First Man In The History Of The Species Who Had Made An Emergency Landing And Had Come Close To Killing Himself And His Sweetheart Simply To Make Love In A Field Of Violets.

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

Races Condemned To 100 Years Of Solitude Did Not Have A Second Opportunity On Earth.

The Only Everyday And Eternal Reality Was Love.

Hate And Love Are Reciprocal Passions.

Cease, Cows, Life Is Short.

Always Tell What You Feel. Do What You Think.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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.

And It Was Always Without Pretensions Of Loving Or Being Loved Although Always In The Hope Of Finding Something That Resembled Love But Without The Problems 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.

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

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 Weak Would Never Enter The Kingdom Of 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.

Only God Knows How Much I Love You.

No Medicine Cures What Happiness Cannot.

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

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.

...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.

One Never Quite Stops Believing, Some Doubt Remains Forever".

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.

There Is Always Something Left To Love.

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

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

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

One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

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

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.

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

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.

Freedom Is Often The First Casualty Of War.

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

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

Falling In Love

Children's Lies Are Signs Of Great Talent.

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.

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.

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.

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)

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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.

Both Described At The Same Time How It Was Always March There And Always Monday, And Then They Understood That José Arcadio Buendía Was Not As Crazy As The Family Said, But That He Was The Only One Who Had Enough Lucidity To Sense The Truth Of The Fact That Time Also Stumbled And Had Accidents And Could Therefore Splinter And Leave An Eternalized Fragment In A Room.

He Was Carrying A Suitcase With Clothing In Order To Stay And Another Just Like It With Almost Two Thousand Letters That She Had Written Him. They Were Arranged By Date In Bundles Ties With Colored Ribbons, And They Were All Unopened.

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

Falling In Love

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.

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 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.

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.

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

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.

She Asked Him To Come And See Her That Night. He Agreed, In Order To Get Away, Knowing That He Was Incapable Of Going. But That Night, In His Burning Bed, He Understood That He Had To Go See Her, Even If He Were Not Capable. He Got Dressed By Feel, Listening In The Dark To His Brother's Calm Breathing, The Dry Cough Of His Father In The Next Room, The Asthma Of The Hens In The Courtyard, The Buzz Of The Mosquitoes, The Beating Of His Heart, And The Inordinate Bustle Of A World That He Had Not Noticed Until Then, And He Went Out In The Sleeping Street.

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.

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.

Old People, With Other Old People, Are Not So Old.

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

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

If You Lie Down In A Village Square Hoping To Capture A Sea Gull, You Could Stay There Your Whole Life Without Succeeding. But A Hundred Miles From Shore It's Different. Sea Gulls Have A Highly Developed Instinct For Self-preservation On Land But At Sea They're Very Cocky.

When You Have A Healthy Appetite There Is No Such Thing As Bad Bread.

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

But That Afternoon He Asked Himself, With His Infinite Capacity For Illusion, If Such Pitiless Indifference Might Not Be A Subterfuge For Hiding The Torments Of Love.

Unrequited Love

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.

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Karl Liebknecht

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