it is a triumph of life that old people lose their memories of inessential things... — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
In her final years she would still recall the trip that, with the perverse lucidity of nostalgia, became more and more recent… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
She would not shed a tear, she would not waste the rest of her years simmering in the maggot broth of memory. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
I want the same one, the way she always is, without failures, without fights, without bad memories. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
An artisan without memories, whose only dream was to die of fatigue in the oblivion and misery of his little gold fishes. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
He was still too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
“just as real events are forgotten, some that never were can be in our memories as if they had happened.” — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
Wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
Between the covers of the books that no one had ever read again, in the old parchments damaged by dampness, a livid… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
The only thing he could do to stay alive was not to allow himself the anguish of that memory. He erased it… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
“They were people whose lives were slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disappeared… — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share Image
He would wake for no reason in the middle of the night, and the memory of the self-absorbed love was revealed to… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
“In Paris, strolling arm in arm with a casual sweetheart through a late autumn, it seemed impossible to imagine a purer happiness… — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share Image
Before reaching the final line, however, he had already understood that he would never leave that room, for it was foreseen that… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
...and the cries of the birds and the uproar of the monkeys became more and more remote, and the world became eternally… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
Little by little, studying the infinite possibilities of a loss of memory, he realized that the day might come when things would… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
“The Captain looked at Fermina Daza and saw on her eyelashes the first glimmer of wintry frost. Then he looked at Florentino Ariza, his… — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share Image
“Courage did not come from the need to survive, or from a brute indifference inherited from someone else, but from a driving need for… — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share Image
“He aprendido que un hombre sólo tiene derecho a mirar a otro hacia abajo cuando ha de ayudarle a levantarse.” — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share Image
From the moment I wrote 'Leaf Storm' I realized I wanted to be a writer and that nobody could stop me and that the… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
He sank into the rocking chair, the same one in which Rebecca had sat during the early days of the house to give embroidery lessons, and in which Amaranta had played Chinese checkers with Colonel Gerineldo Marquez, and in which Amarana Ursula had sewn the tiny clothing for the child, and in that flash of lucidity he became aware that… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share
“They were people whose lives were slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disappeared little by… — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share Image
“I didn't do any of what they told me,' she said, 'because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was all something dirty that shouldn't be done to anybody, much less to the poor man who had the bad luck to marry me.' So she let herself get undressed openly in the lighted bedroom, safe… — Gabriel García Márquez Copy Share
He thought about his people without sentimentalily, with a strick closing of his accounts with life, beginning to understand how much he really loved… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
Why were you so old when we met? I answered with the truth: Age isn't how old you are but how old you feel. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
Between the covers of the books that no one had ever read again, in the old parchments damaged by dampness, a livid flower had… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
I was asked the other day if I would be interested in the Nobel Prize, but I think that for me it would be… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez Copy Share Image
