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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.

-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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She Asked Him To

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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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.

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One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

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

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

Falling In Love

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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.

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.

...they Enjoyed The Miracle Of Loving Each Other As Much At The Table As In Bed, And They Grew To Be So Happy That Even When They Were Two Worn-out Old People They Kept On Blooming Like Children And Playing Together Like Dogs.

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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.

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.

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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.

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One Hundred Years Of Solitude

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

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

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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

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

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I Discovered That My Obsession For Having Each Thing In The Right Place, Each Subject At The Right Time, Each Word In The Right Style, Was Not The Well-deserved Reward Of An Ordered Mind, But Just The Opposite: A Complete System Of Pretense Invented By Me To Hide The Disorder Of My Nature.

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