Gabriel Garcia Marquez Quotes
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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.
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Dr Urbino did not agree: in his opinion a Liberal president was exactly the same as a Conservative president, but not as well dressed.
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Nobody teaches life anything.
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The woman let out an expansive laugh that resounded through the house like a spray of broken glass.
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Shame has poor memory.
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All my life, I've been frightened at the moment I sit down to write.
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A person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground.
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Taught him the only thing he had to learn about love: that nobody teaches life anything.
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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.
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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.
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No matter what you do this year or in the next hundred, you will be dead forever.
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She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst… 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. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.
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Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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Ah, me, if this is love, then how it torments.
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Very well, I will marry you if you promise not to make me eat eggplant.
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Just imagine, a cow on the balcony of the nation, what an awful thing, what a shitty country.
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One had to live a long time to know a man's true nature.
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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.
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It is life, more than death, that has no limits.