One Hundred Years of Solitude Quotes

“It was the history of the family, written by Melquíades, down to the most trivial details, one hundred years ahead of time. He had written it in Sanskrit, which was his mother tongue, and he had encoded the even lines in the private cipher of the Emperor Augustus and the odd ones in a La cedemonian military code.”
― Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“With that discouraging explanation many felt that they had been the victims of some new and showy gypsy business and they decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“No había ningún misterio en el corazón de un Buendía que fuera impenetrable para ella, porque un siglo de naipes y de experiencia le había enseñado que la historia de la familia era un engranaje de repeticiones irreparables, una rueda giratoria que hubiera seguido dando vueltas hasta la eternidad, de no haber sido por el desgaste progresivo e irremediable del eje.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“así como se atribuía al género humano un instinto de reproducción, debía atribuírsele otro más definido y apremiante, que era el instinto de matar cucarachas, y que si éstas habían logrado escapar a la ferocidad humana era porque se habían refugiado en las tinieblas, donde se hicieron invulnerables por el miedo congénito del hombre a la oscuridad, pero en cambio se volvieron susceptibles al esplendor del mediodía, de modo que ya en la Edad Media, en la actualidad y por los siglos de los siglos, el único método eficaz para matar cucarachas era el deslumbramiento solar.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“HE had fled from her in an attempt to wipe out her memory, not only through distance but by means of a muddled fury that his companions a arms took to be boldness, but the more her image wallowed in the dung hill of war, the more the was resembled Amarant.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of living 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 people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“A few hours later, worn out by the vigil, he went into Aureliano’s workshop and asked him: “What day is today?” Aureliano told him that it was Tuesday. “I was thinking the same thing,” José Arcadio Buendía said, “but suddenly I realized that it’s still Monday, like yesterday. Look at the sky, look at the walls, look at the begonias. Today is Monday too.” Used to his manias, Aureliano paid no attention to him. On the next day, Wednesday, José Arcadio Buendía went back to the workshop. “This is a disaster,” he said. “Look at the air, listen to the buzzing of the sun, the same as yesterday and the day before. Today is Monday too.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“When he was alone, José Arcadio Buendía consoled himself with the dream of the infinite rooms. He dreamed that he was getting out of bed, opening the door and going into an identical room with the same bed with a wrought-iron head, the same wicker chair, and the same small picture of the Virgin of Help on the back wall. From that room he would go into another that was just the same, the door of which would open into another that was just the same, the door of which would open into another one just the same, and then into another exactly alike, and so on to infinity. He liked to go from room to room, as in a gallery of parallel mirrors, until Prudencio Aguilar would touch him on the shoulder. Then he would go back from room to room, walking in reverse, going back over his trail, and he would find Prudencio Aguilar in the room of reality. But one night, two weeks after they took him to| his bed, Prudencio Aguilar touched his shoulder in an intermediate room and he stayed there forever, thinking that it was the real room.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“كان البلوغ قد انتزع منه عذوبة صوته، وحوله إلى صموت ومتوحد، لكنه أعاد إليه بالمقابل، التعبير الزخم الذي كان لعينيه لحظة مولده.”
― جابرييل جارسيا ماركيز, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“سيكون ذلك بديعاً. فعندما نكون وحيدين، سنبقي المصباح مضاء كي نرى نفسينا جيداً، وسيكون بإمكاني أن أصرخ بما أشاء، دون أن يتدخل أحد، وتهمس أنت في أذني بكل البذاءات التي تخطر في بالك.”
― جابرييل جارسيا ماركيز, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“لم يعد يستطيع النوم. فقد كان يقلقه الأسى الهائل الذي نظر به الميت إليه من خلال المطر والحنين العميق الذي يتشوق به إلى الأحياء.”
― جابرييل جارسيا ماركيز, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“he could not understand how people arrived at the extreme of waging war over things that could not be touched with the hand”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Хосе-Аркадио, по-големият от децата, беше навършил четиринайсет години. Имаше четвъртитата глава, щръкналата коса и прихватничавия характер на баща си. Макар и да носеше същия порив за растене и физическа сила, още оттогава беше очевидно, че е лишен от въображение. Бе заченат и роден в мъчителното пътуване през планината, преди основаването на Макондо, и родителите му благодариха на небето, щом стана ясно, че няма никакъв животински орган. Аурелиано, първото човешко същество, което се роди в Макондо, щеше да навърши шест години през март. Беше тих и уединяващ се. Плака в корема на майка си и се роди с отворени очи. Докато му прерязваха пъпа, въртеше глава насам-натам и опознаваше нещата в стаята, като оглеждаше лицата на хората с любопитство, в което нямаше учудване. После, безразличен към ония, които се приближаваха да го разгледат, той задържа вниманието си съсредоточено в тавана от палмови листа, който изглеждаше че ей-сега ще се срути под страшния напор на дъжда. Урсула не си спомни за напрегнатостта на онзи поглед чак до деня, в който малкият Аурелиано на тригодишна възраст влезе в кухнята тъкмо когато тя смъкваше от огнището и слагаше върху масата гърне с врящ бульон. Слисано на вратата, детето каза: „Ще падне“. Гърнето стоеше добре поставено в средата на масата, но едва детето изрече предупреждението, и то започна невъзвратимо да се мести към ръба, сякаш подтиквано от някакво вътрешно движение, и се пръсна върху пода. Обезпокоена, Урсула разказа случката на мъжа си, но той я изтълкува като естествено явление. Такъв си беше винаги, чужд за съществуването на децата си, отчасти защото считаше детството за време на умствен недостиг, отчасти защото винаги биваше премного погълнат от своите собствени химерични умозрения.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“كيف يتطرف بعض الناس إلى حد إشهار الحرب الأهلية بسبب معتقدات قابلة للصواب والخطأ.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Aquella noche interminable, mientras el coronel Gerineldo Márquez evocaba sus tardes muertas en el costurero de Amaranta, el coronel Aureliano Buendía rasguñó durante muchas horas, tratando de romperla, la dura cáscara de su soledad. Sus únicos instantes felices, desde la tarde remota en que su padre lo llevó a conocer el hielo, habían transcurrido en el taller de platería, donde se le iba el tiempo armando pescaditos de oro. Había tenido que promover 32 guerras, y había tenido que violar todos sus pactos con la muerte y revolcarse como un cerdo en el muladar de la gloria, para descubrir con casi cuarenta años de retraso los privilegios de la simplicidad.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“... a woman who was washing clothes in the river during the hottest time of the day ran screaming down the main street in an alarming state of commotion.
"It's coming," she finally explained. "Something frightful, like a kitchen dragging a village behind it.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“She answered him sincerely that she would never marry a man who was so simple that he had wasted almost an hour and even went without lunch just to see a woman taking a bath.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“«No puede llover toda la vida.»”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Cien años de soledad

“La soledad le había seleccionado los recuerdos, y había incinerado los entorpecedores montones de basura nostálgica que la vida había acumulado en su corazón, y había purificado, magnificado y eternizado los otros, los más amargos.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“If you have to go crazy, please go crazy all by yourself!" Ursula shouted.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“الفارق الوحيد بين الليبراليون و المحافظون ، هو أن الليبراليين يذهبون إلى قداس الساعة الثالثة بينما يذهب المحافظون إلى قداس الثامنة”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Desde entonces manifestaba el párroco los primeros síntomas del delirio senil que lo llevó a decir, años más tarde, que probablemente el diablo había ganado la rebelión contra Dios, y que era aquél quien estaba sentado en el trono celeste, sin revelar su verdadera identidad para atrapar a los incautos.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“...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.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“تبين لأركاديو كم هى شكليات الموت مضحكة، الحقيقة أنه لم يكن يهتم بالموت، وإنما بالحياة. ولهذا فإن الإحساس الذى راوده عندما نطقوا بالحكم، لم يكن إحساساً بالخوف، بل بالحنين.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“تحدث فى العالم أشياء لا تُصدق، فهناك بالضبط، على ضفة النهر الأخر، توجد كل أنواع الأجهزة السحرية، بينما نواصل نحن العيش كالحمير”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“لا ينتسب الانسان الى ارض لا موتى له تحت ترابها”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“At that instant the smoking mouths of the rifles were aimed at him and letter by letter he heard the encyclicals that Mequiades had chanted and he heart the lost steps of Santa Sofia de la Piedad, a virgin, in the classroom, and in his nose he felt the same icy hardness that had drawn his attention in the nostrils of the corpse of Remedios.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“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.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“আমাকে যদি কিছু হতেই হয় তো উদারপন্থী-ই হবো আমি। কারণ রক্ষণশীলরা কুচুটে।

('নিঃসঙ্গতার একশ বছর', অনুবাদ- জি এইচ হাবীব)”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“O mundo terá se fodido de vez no dia em que os homens viajarem de primeira classe e a literatura no vagão de carga.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude