Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
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.
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.
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.
He was healthier than the rest of us, but when you listened with the stethoscope you could hear the tears bubbling inside his heart.
Dr Urbino did not agree: in his opinion a Liberal president was exactly the same as a Conservative president, but not as well dressed.
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.
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.
In some way impossible to ascertain, after so many years of absense, Jose Arcadio was still an autumnal child, terribly sad and solitary.
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.
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.
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.
The only difference today between Liberals and Conservatives is that the Liberals go to mass at five o'clock and the Conservatives at eight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The interpretation of our reality through patterns not our own, serves only to make us ever more unknown, ever less free, ever more solitary.
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.
Many years later, in front of the firing squad, colonel Aureliano Buendía would remember that distant afternoon his father took him to see ice.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.