Gabriel Garcia Marquez Quotes

“My most important problem was destroying the lines of demarcation that separate what seems real from what seems fantastic.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez

“Each man is master of his own death, and all that we can do when the time comes is to help him die without fear of pain.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez

“It is easier to start a war than to end it.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez

“Bad luck doesn't have any chinks in it," he said with deep bitterness. "I was born a son of a bitch and I'm going to die a son of a bitch.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“It was then that she realized that the yellow butterflies preceded the appearances of Mauricio Babilonia.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez

“Ella encontró siempre la manera de rechazarlo porque aunque no conseguía quererlo, ya no podía vivir sin el.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Cien años de soledad

“The majority understood that his passivity was not that of a hero taking his ease but that of a cataclysm in repose.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez, No One Writes to the Colonel

“How strange men are.' she said, because she could not think of anything else to say. 'They spend their lives fighting against priests and then give prayer books as gifts.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Science has eliminated distance.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, 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 little children and playing like dogs.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Always. At every moment, asleep and awake, during the most sublime and most abject moments, Amaranta thought of Rebeca, because solitude had made a selection in her memory and had burned the dimming piles of nostalgic waste that life had accumulated in her heart, and had purified, magnified, and eternalized the others, the most bitter ones.”
― Gabriel Garcia Márquez

“Dadme un prejuicio y moveré el mundo.”
― Gabriel García Márquez

“I told your daughter that she is like a rose."
"True enough," said Lorenzo Daza, "but one with too many thorns.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

“—¿Qué dice? —preguntó. —Está muy triste —contestó Úrsula— porque cree que te vas a morir. —Dígale —sonrió el coronel— que uno no se muere cuando debe, sino cuando puede.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“The only thing that [Amaranta] did not keep in mind in her fearsome plan was that in spite of her pleas to God she might die before Rebeca. That was, in fact, what happened. At the final moment, however, Amaranta did not feel frustrated, but, on the contrary, free of all bitterness because death had awarded her the privilege of announcing itself several years ahead of time. She saw it on one burning afternoon sewing with her on the porch a short time after Meme had left for school. She saw it because it was a woman dressed in blue with long hair, with a sort of antiquated look, and with a certain resemblance to Pilar Ternera during the time when she had helped with the chores in the kitchen. Fernanda was present several times and did not see her, in spite of the fact that she was so real – so human and on one occasion asked of Amaranta the favor of threading a needle. Death did not tell her when she was going to die or whether her hour was assigned before that of Rebeca, but ordered her to begin sewing her own shroud on the next sixth of April. She was authorized to make it as complicated and as fine as she wanted, but just as honestly executed as Rebeca's, and she was told that she would die without pain, fear, or bitterness at dusk on the day that she finished it. Trying to waste the most time possible, Amaranta ordered some rough flax and spun the thread herself. She did it so carefully that the work alone took four years. Then she started the sewing. As she got closer to the unavoidable end she began to understand that only a miracle would allow her to prolong the work past Rebeca's death, but the very concentration gave her the calmness that she needed to accept the idea of frustration.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“There are some corrupt Christians who do their business with female donkeys.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez

“If I died now," he said, "you would hardly remember me when you are my age."
He said it for no apparent reason, and the angel of death hovered for a moment in the cool shadows of the office and flew out again through the window, leaving a trail of feathers fluttering in his wake, but the boy did not see them.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

“Sabía que el despertar de cada mañana seguiría siendo difícil, pero lo seria cada vez menos”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

“Güzel günlerden öyle uzaklaşmış bulunuyordu ki,
en kötü anılarla dolu günleri bile özler oldu.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“He could never understand the sense of a constest in which the two adversaries have agreed upon the rules”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Tobías lo encontró escarbando en la arena, con la boca llena de espuma y se asombró de que los ricos con hambre se parecieran tanto a los pobres”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, El mar del tiempo perdido

“omul e ca un copac de pădure, mamă, ca sălbăticiunile care nu ies din bârlog decât pentru a mânca”
― Gabriel García Márquez

“Las únicas pistas reales de que disponía Aureliano Segundo cuando salió a buscarla eran su incunfundible dicción del páramo y su oficio de tejedora de palmas fúnebres. La buscó sin piedad. Con la temeridad atroz con que José Arcadio Buendía atravesó la sierra para fundar a Macondo, con el orgullo ciego con que el coronel Aureliano Buendía promovió sus guerras inútiles, con la tenacidad insensata con que Úrsula aseguró la supervivencia de la estirpe, así buscó Aureliano Segundo a Fernanda, sin un solo instante de desaliento.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Cien años de soledad

“То, что делало ее счастливой, не имело ни малейшего отношения к порядку и дисциплине: ей нравились шумные праздники, она любила целыми часами сидеть с подружками в каком-нибудь укромном уголке, где они сплетничали, кто в кого влюблен, учились курить, говорили о мужчинах, а однажды распили три бутылки тростникового рома, после чего разделись и стали сравнивать и измерять различные части своего тела.”
― Габриел Гарсия Маркес, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“...todo es tan garciamarqueciano que sospecho que él no existió...”
― Marta Sanz, Clavícula

“Dünyaya ve insan yüreğine ilişkin bütün öğretilerini unutmalarını, Horace'ın tepesine sıçmalarını, nerede olurlarsa olsunlar geçmişin bir yalan olduğunu, anıların dönüşü bulunmadığını, geçip giden hiçbir baharın yeniden ele geçirilemeyeceğini, aşkların en çılgınca ve vazgeçilmez olanının ömrün sonundaki bir anlık gerçek olduğunu akıllarından çıkarmamalarını öğütlemeye başladı.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“From there he saw Fermina Daza walk in on her son's arm, dressed in an unadorned long-sleeved black velvet dress buttoned all the way from her neck to the tips of her shoes, like a bishop's cassock, and a narrow scarf of Castilian lace instead of the veiled hat worn by other widows, and even by many other ladies who longed for that condition”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

“Entonces José Arcadio Buendía hecho tretina doblones en una cazuela, y los fundió con raspadura de cobre, oropimienta, azufre y plomo. Puso a hervir todo a fuego vivo en un caldero de aceite de ricino hasta obtener un jarabe espeso y pestilente más parecido al caramelo vulgar que al oro magnífico. En azarosos y deseperados procesos de destilación, fundida con siete metales planetarios, trabajado con mercurio hermético y vitriolo de Chipre, y vuelta a cocer en manteca de cerdo a falta de aceite de rábano, la preciosa herencia de Úrsula quedó reducida a un chicharrón carbonizado que no pudo ser desprendido del fondo del caldero.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Until then Dr. Juvenal Urbino and his family had conceived of death as a misfortune that befell others, other people’s fathers and mothers, other people’s brothers and sisters and husbands and wives, but not theirs. They were people whose lives were slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disappeared little by little in their own time, turning into memories, mists from other days, until they were absorbed into oblivion. His father’s posthumous letter, more than the telegram with the bad news, hurled him headlong against the certainty of death.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

“No medicine cures, what happiness cannot"

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― Gabriel García Márquez