Gabriel García Márquez Quotes

Don't open that door," she said. "The hallway is full of difficult dreams." And I asked her: "How do you know?" And she told me: "Because I was there a moment ago and I had to come back when I discovered I was sleeping on my heart.

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.

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.

He thought about his people without sentimentality, with a strict closing of his accounts with life, beginning to understand how much he really loved the people he hated most.

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.

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.

All my life, I've been frightened at the moment I sit down to write.

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

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 problem in public life is learning to overcome terror; the problem in married life is learning to overcome boredom.

I would not have traded the delights of my suffering for anything in the world.

Do not allow me to forget you

Horses frighten me as much as chickens do,’ he said. ‘That is too bad, because lack of communication with horses has impeded human progress,’ said Abrenuncio. ‘If we ever broke down the barriers, we could produce the centaur.

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.

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.

Taught him the only thing he had to learn about love: that nobody teaches life anything.

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

The only everyday and eternal reality was love.

She would say, "Someone should invent something to do with things you cannot use anymore but that you still cannot throw out.

Ultimately, literature is nothing but carpentry.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

He really had been through death, but he had returned because he could not bear the solitude.

He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.

He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.

Thus they went on living in a reality that was slipping away, momentarily captured by words, but which would escape irremediably when they forgot the values of the written letters.

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

In some way impossible to ascertain, after so many years of absense, Jose Arcadio was still an autumnal child, terribly sad and solitary.

Injections are the best thing ever invented for feeding doctors.

...and the cries of the birds and the uproar of the monkeys became more and more remote, and the world became eternally sad. The men on the expedition felt overwhelmed by their most ancient memories in that paradise of dampness and silence, going back to before original sin, as their boots sank into pools of steaming oil and their machetes destroyed bloody lilies and golden salamanders.

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

Children's lies are signs of great talent.

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

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

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.

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.

To all, I would say how mistaken they are when they think that they stop falling in love when they grow old, without knowing that they grow old when they stop falling in love...

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

It was a love of perpetual flight.

When I wake up," he said, "remind me that I'm going to marry her.

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.

The woman let out an expansive laugh that resounded through the house like a spray of broken glass.

The interpretation of our reality through patterns not our own, serves only to make us ever more unknown, ever less free, ever more solitary.

but he only found her in the image that saturated his private and terrible solitude.

I ask myself how I could give in to this perpetual vertigo that I in fact provoked and feared. I floated among erratic clouds and talked to myself in front of the mirror in the vain hope of confirming who I was. My delirium was so great that during a student demonstration complete with rocks and bottles, I had to make an enormous effort not to lead it as I held up a sign that would sanctify my truth: I am mad with love.

It was the last that remained of a past whose annihilation had not taken place because it was still in a process of annihilation, consuming itself from within, ending at every moment but never ending its ending.

If men gave birth, they'd be less inconsiderate.

The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude.

A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain.

wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good.

For you was I born, for you do I have life, for you will I die, for you am I now dying.

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

The children would remember for the rest of their lives the august solemnity with which their father, devastated by his prolonged vigil and by the wraith of his imagination, revealed his discovery to them: 'The world is round, like an orange.

She likes to try everything, out of curiosity, but she'll be sorry if she isn't guided by her heart.

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.