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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.
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People spend a lifetime thinking about how 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.'
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Love does not die, when someone gets old, people get old, because they can not love anymore.
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And both of them remained floating in an empty universe where the only everyday & eternal reality was love.
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Justice limps along, but gets there all the same.
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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.
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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
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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.
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He did not dare to console her, knowing that it would have been like consoling a tiger run thru by a spear.
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It had to teach her to think of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end it itself.
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If men gave birth, they'd be less inconsiderate.
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Life is not what one lived, but what One remembers and how One remembers it in order to recount it...
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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.
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Crazy people are not crazy if one accepts their reasoning.
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Most fatal diseases had their own specific odor, but ... none was as specific as old age.
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The heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good.
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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.
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She felt the abyss of disenchantment.
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Santiago Nasar had often told me that the smell of closed-in flowers had an immediate relation to death for him.
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He said that people who loved [animals] to excess were capable of the worst cruelties toward human beings. He said that dogs were not loyal but servile, that cats were opportunists and traitors, that peacocks were heralds of death, that macaws were simply decorative annoyances, that rabbits fomented greed, that monkeys carried the fever of lust, and that roosters were damned because they had been complicit in the three denials of Christ.
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Only God knows how much I love you.
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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.
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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.
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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.