Colombian Quotes

Time was not passing...it was turning in a circle.

and realized that death was not only a permanent probability, as he had always believed, but an immediate reality.

I don't have a method. All I do is read a lot, think a lot, and rewrite constantly. It's not a scientific thing.

Faulkner is a writer who has had much to do with my soul, but Hemingway is the one who had the most to do with my craft - not simply for his books, but for his astounding knowledge of the aspect of craftsmanship in the science of writing.

Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can, because these things don't last your whole life.

No matter what, nobody can take away the dances you've already had.

Over the weekend the vultures got into the presidential palace by pecking through the screens on the balcony windows and the flapping of their wings stirred up the stagnant time inside, and at dawn on Monday the city awoke out of its lethargy of centuries with the warm, soft breeze of a great man dead and rotting grandeur.

Most fatal diseases had their own specific odor, but ... none was as specific as old age.

Life is not what one lived, but what One remembers and how One remembers it in order to recount it

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

The people of the United States are one of the people I most admire in the world. The only thing I don't understand is why a country that manages to do so well cannot do better in choosing its president.

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.

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.

For those who may be hurting over lost love:Don't cry because it is over... smile because it happened.

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.

He could not understand why he had needed so many words to explain what he felt in war because one was enough: fear. ~Jose Aracadio Segundo Buendia After the second banana slaughter

The house became full of love. Aureliano expressed it in poetry that had no beginning and no end. He would write it on the harsh pieces of parchment that Melquiades gave him, on the bathroom walls, on the skin of his arms, and in all of it Remedios would appear transfigured: Remedios in the soporific air of two in the afternoon, Remedios in the soft breath of the roses, Remedios in the water-clock secrets of the moths, Remedios in the steaming morning bread, Remedios everywhere and Remedios forever.

Curiosity is one of the many masks of love.

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.

And again, as always, after so many years we were still in the same place we always were.

The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love.

An early-rising man is a good spouse but a bad husband.

Old people, with other old people, are not so old.

He was weary of the uncertainty of the vicious circle of that eternal war that always found him in the same place, but always older, wearier, even more in the position of not knowing why, or how, or even when.

This was when I heard that the first symptom of old age is when you begin to resemble your father.

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.

he dared to explore her withered neck w/his fingertips…her hips w/their decaying bones, her thighs with their aging veins.

It was the year they fell into devastating love. Neither one could do anything except think about the other, dream about the other, and wait for letters with the same impatience they felt when they answered them.

He was carrying a suitcase with clothing in order to stay and another just like it with almost two thousand letters that she had written him. They were arranged by date in bundles ties with colored ribbons, and they were all unopened.

I do not believe there is a method better than Montessori for making children sensitive to the beauties of the world and awakening their curiosity regarding the secrets of life.

Just because someone does not love you as you want, it does not mean that you do not love with all his being.

For a week I did not take off my mechanic's coverall day or night I did not bathe or shave or brush my teeth because love taught me too late that you groom yourself for someone you dress and perfume yourself for someone and I'd never had anyone to do that for.

There's no greater misfortune than dying alone.

It is impossible to explain. But what I like most is to eat.

[The captain] looked at Florentino Ariza, his invincible power, his intrepid love and was overwhelmed by the belated suspicion that it is life, more than death, that has no limits.

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.

No, not rich. I am a poor man with money, which is not the same thing.

Ultimately, literature is nothing but carpentry. With both you are working with reality, a material just as hard as wood.

His place was always set at the table, in case he rturned from the dead without warning .

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.

When you have a healthy appetite there is no such thing as bad bread.

An artisan without memories, whose only dream was to die of fatigue in the oblivion and misery of his little gold fishes.

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.

The anxiety of falling in love could not find repose except in bed.

The truth is that I know very few novelists who have been satisfied with the adaptation of their books for the screen.

Tricks you need to transform something which appears fantastic, unbelievable into something plausible, credible, those I learned from journalism. The key is to tell it straight. It is done by reporters and by country folk.

I want the same one, the way she always is, without failures, without fights, without bad memories.

She had the revelation one Sunday that while the other instruments played for everyone the violen played for her alone .

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.

She had never imagined that curiosty was one of the many masks of love .

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.

As I kissed her the heat of her body increased, and it exhaled a wild, untamed fragrance.

There is always something left to love.

Shame has poor memory.

The only everyday and eternal reality was love.

Together they had overcome the daily incomprehension, the instantaneous hatred, the reciprocal nastiness, and fabulous flashes of glory in the conjugal conspiracy. It was time when they both loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other moral trials, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore.

One can be in love with several people at the same time, feel the sorrow with each, and not betray any of them.

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.

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

his examination revealed that he had no fever, no pain anywhere, and that his only concrete feeling was an urgent desire to die. All that was needed was shrewd questioning...to conclude once again that the symptoms of love were the same as those of cholera.