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.
It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.
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.
No matter what, nobody can take away the dances you've already had.
All human beings have three lives: public, private, and secret.
The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love.
Nobody deserves your tears, but whoever deserves them will not make you cry.
He was still too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past.
In that Macondo forgotten even by the birds, where the dust and the heat had become so strong that it was difficult to breathe, secluded by solitude and love and by the solitude of love in a house where it was almost impossible to sleep because of the noise of the red ants, Aureliano, and Amaranta Úrsula were the only happy beings, and the most happy on the face of the earth.
The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude.
"Things have a life of their own," the gypsy proclaimed with a harsh accent. "It's simply a matter of waking up their souls."
A lie is more comfortable than doubt, more useful than love, more lasting than truth.
One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship!
It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.
A true friend is the one who holds your hand and touches your heart.
In the end all books are written for your friends. The problem after writing One Hundred Years of Solitude was that now I no longer know whom of the millions of readers I am writing for; this upsets and inhibits me. It's like a million eyes are looking at you and you don't really know what they think.
Wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end.
wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good.
There is always something left to love.
Fiction was invented the day Jonas arrived home and told his wife that he was three days late because he had been swallowed by a whale.
But when a woman decides to sleep with a man, there is no wall she will not scale, no fortress she will not destroy, no moral consideration she will not ignore at its very root: there is no God worth worrying about.
Humanity, like armies in the field, advances at the speed of the slowest.
The heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good.
Both looked back then on the wild revelry...and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude.
...they enjoyed the miracle of loving each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out old people they kept on blooming like children and playing together like dogs.
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