Gabriel Garcia Marquez Quotes (135 Quotes)

Old age began with one's 1st fall and the death came with the 2nd .

This was his world, he said to himself, the sad, oppressive world that God had provided for him, and he was responsible to it.

More than mother and son, they were accomplices in solitude.

He did not dare to console her, knowing that it would have been like consoling a tiger run thru by a spear.

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.

They kept a clean and neat house. Rebeca would open it wide at dawn and the wind from the graveyard would come in through the windows and go out through the doors to the yard and leave the whitewashed walls and furniture tanned by the saltpeter of the dead.

In reality they were distracted letters intendedto keep the coals alive witgout putting her hand in the fire while FA burned himself alive in every line .

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.

I plead youth as a mitigating circumstance.

A man knows when he is growing old cuz he begins to look like his father .

One could be happy not only without love, but despite it.

Very well, I will marry you if you promise not to make me eat eggplant.

Nevertheless, in the impenetrable solitude of decrepitude she had such a clairvoyance as she examined the most insignificant happenings in the family that for the first time she saw clearly the truths that her busy life in former times had prevented her from seeing.

He found a glimmer of hope in the ruins of disaster

She searched the truth with an anguish almost as great as her terrible fear of finding it .

But when she saw her eating with her hands, incapable of giving an answer that was not a miracle of simple-mindedness, the only thing that she lamented was the fact that the idiots in the family lived so long.

They were so close to each other that they preferred death to separation.

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.

The only thing worse than bad health is a bad name.

In all the houses keys to memorizing objects and feelings had been written. But the system demanded so much vigilance and moral strength that many succumbed to the spell of an imaginary reality, one invented by themselves, which was less practical for them but more comforting.

After dinner, at five o'clock, the crew distributed folding canvas cots to the passengers, and each person opened his bed wherever he could find room, arranged it with the bedclothes from his petate, and set the mosquito netting over that. Those with hammocks hung them in the salon, and those who had nothing slept on the tablecloths that were not changed more than twice during the trip.

One had to live a long time to know a man's true nature.

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.

Pierwszy z rodu jest przywiazany do drzewa, a ostatniego zjadaja mrowki.

He is ugly and sad... but he is all love.

She wanted to be herself again, to recover all that she had been obliged to give up in half a century of servitude that had doubtless made her happy but which, once her husband was dead, did not leave her even the vestiges of her identity.

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.

Thinking that it would console him, she took a piece of charcoal and erased the innumerable loves that he still owed her for, and she voluntarily brought up her own most solitary sadnesses so as not to leave him alone in his weeping.

It is incredible how one can be happy for so many years in the midst of so many squabbles, so many problems, damn it, and not really know if it was love or not.