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Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez Books

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“All that Delaura noticed, though, was the uproarious crowing of the roosters. 'There are only six of them, but they make enough noise for a hundred,' said the Abbess. 'Furthermore, a pig spoke and a goat gave birth to triplets.' And she added with fervor: 'Everything has been like this since your Bishop did us the favor of sending us his poisoned gift.' She viewed with equal alarm the garden flowering with so much vigor that it seemed contra natura. As they walked across it she pointed out to Delaura that there were flowers of exceptional size and color, some with an unbearable scent. As far as she was concerned, everything ordinary has something supernatural about it.”

OrdinarySupernaturalSuperstitionConfirmation Bias
Author:Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez
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“Upset by two nostalgias facing each other like two mirrors, he lost his marvelous sense of unreality and he ended up recommending to all of them that they leave Macondo, that they forget everything he had taught them about the world and the human heart, that they shit on Horace, and that 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.”

LoveRealityTruth
Book:One Hundred Years of Solitude
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“The uncertainty of the future made them turn their hearts toward the past. They saw themselves in the lost paradise of the deluge, splashing in the puddles in the courtyard, killing lizards to hang on Úrsula, pretending that they were going to bury her alive, and those memories revealed to them the truth that they had been happy together ever since they had had memory.”

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Book:One Hundred Years of Solitude
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“Nelle notti d’inverno, mentre faceva cuocere la minestra nel camino, soffriva la nostalgia del caldo del suo retrobottega, il ronzio del sole nei mandorli polverosi, il fischio del treno nel sopore della siesta, proprio come a Macondo soffriva la nostalgia della minestra invernale nel camino, del richiamo del venditore di caffè e delle lodole fugaci della primavera. Stordito da due nostalgie opposte come due specchi, perse il suo meraviglioso senso della irrealtà, e alla fine raccomandò a tutti che se ne andassero da Macondo, che dimenticassero tutto quello che lui gli aveva insegnato del mondo e del cuore umano, che se ne fottessero di Orazio, e che in qualsiasi luogo si fossero trovati si ricordassero sempre che il passato era menzogna, che la memoria non aveva vie di ritorno, che qualsiasi primavera antica è irrecuperabile, e che l’amore più sfrenato e tenace era in ogni modo una verità effimera.”

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Author:Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez
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“«Todo el mundo dice que la muerte es una mujer», siguió diciendo la mujer. Era corpulenta, más alta que su marido, y con una verruga pilosa en el labio superior. Su manera de hablar recordaba el zumbido del ventilador eléctrico. «Pero a mí no me parece que sea una mujer», dijo. Cerró el armario y se volvió a consultar la mirada del coronel: ―Yo creo que es un animal con pezuñas. ―Es posible ―admitió el coronel―. A veces suceden cosas muy extrañas.”

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Book:El coronel no tiene quien le escriba
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“Descobri que a minha obsessão de que cada coisa estivesse no seu lugar, cada assunto no seu tempo, cada palavra no seu estilo, não era o prémio merecido de uma mente ordenada mas, pelo contrário, um sistema completo de simulação inventado por mim para ocultar a desordem da minha natureza. Descobri que não sou disciplinado por virtude, mas como reacção contra a minha negligência; que pareço generoso para encobrir a minha mesquinhez, que passo por prudente por ser pessimista, que sou conciliador para não sucumbir às minhas cóleras reprimidas, que só sou pontual para que não se saiba que pouco me importa o tempo alheio. Descobri, por fim, que o amor não é um estado de alma mas um signo do Zodíaco.”

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Book:Memories of My Melancholy Whores
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“Les pays les plus prospères ont réussi à accumuler des pouvoirs de destruction tels que d'anéantir, cent fois, non seulement tous les êtres humains qui ont existé à ce jour, mais aussi la totalité de tous les êtres vivants qui ont jamais dessiné souffle sur cette planète du malheur. Un jour comme aujourd'hui, mon maître William Faulkner dit: «Je refuse d'accepter la fin de l'homme." Je tomberais indigne de se tenir dans ce lieu qui était le sien, si je devais pas pleinement conscients que la tragédie colossale qu'il a refusé de reconnaître, il y a trente-deux ans est maintenant, pour la première fois depuis le début de l'humanité, rien de plus qu'un simple possibilité scientifique. Face à cette réalité impressionnante qui a dû sembler une simple utopie à travers tout le temps humain, nous, les inventeurs de contes, qui croire quoi que ce soit, se sentent en droit de croire qu'il n'y a pas encore trop tard pour participer à la création de l'utopie opposée . Une nouvelle et radicale utopie de la vie, où personne ne sera en mesure de décider pour les autres comment ils meurent, où l'amour se révélera vrai bonheur et être possible, et où les races condamnées à cent ans de solitude aura enfin et pour toujours , une deuxième chance sur la terre." ― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Nobel lecture (8 Décembre 1982)”

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Author:Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez
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“It was the first time in a half century that they had been so close and had enough time to look at each other with some serenity and they had seen each other for what they were: two old people, ambushed by death, who had nothing in common except the mercy of an ephemeral past that was no longer theirs but belonged to two young people who had vanished and who could have been their grandchildren.”

Growing OldAgeless Love
Book:Love in the Time of Cholera
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