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Quote by Gabriel García Márquez

“Hell, babe, what did you expect?," Don Enrico del Vasquéz del Pico del Maria said, slurping on a huge dooberino and looking at Maria del Pico del Vasquéz del Marquéz del Poéticanovela with those classic red be-dooberino'd eyes. "It can't all be cholera in the time of love. Sometimes... sometimes it's love in the time of cholera.”

Quote by Gabriel García Márquez

Work

Amor en los Tiempos del Cólera

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Author

Gabriel García Márquez

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“اما وادی دیگری هست که همیشه می توانیم احساست صادقانه را در آن تجربه کنیم- محضر دوست. آن جا که خودپسندی های حقیرمان را دور می ریزیم و صمیمیت و تفاهم را حس می کنیم؛ همان جا که خودخواهی های حقیرغیرممکنند و شراب و کتاب و و کلام معنای دیگری به زندگی ما می دهند. به این ترتیب چیزی ساخته ایم که هیچ دروغی به آن راه ندارد. آن جا در آرامش کاملیم.”

“Meg watched her sister stand up straight to buck up her courage. Perhaps no one but a sister would have seen the little tremble in Jo's chin, the hurt in her eyes. Laurie certainly didn't seem to notice. Only Meg felt all the air go out of the room as she realized Jo was very close to tears - that in another minute they would have a scene on their hands, and it would all come out at last. Instead, Jo said, 'Congratulations, Laurie. I hope you're very happy together.' And she ran up the stairs and away before he could say another word.”

“There are no eyes like those in the whole world, she thought. Eyes like glaciers, like cold northern afternoons. Lapis eyes, blue-sky blue. She hadn't known how much she loved them. And that face. She loved the frown. She loved the furrowed brow. She loved the one irritated eyebrow. She loved the total indifference, the moment one idea or another pushed her temporarily out of his thoughts. She loved it because she loved the sweetness, in the other moments, when he came back to her. The softening, when she came near.”

“Every cell in her body was screaming at her to flee, but every beat of her heart was telling her to stay. And now she knew. She did belong to him, because he belonged to her, and they belonged to each other. There was no wedding vow that needed to be spoken for her to understand that. Even unmarried, even under separate roofs, they belonged together. No suitable wife would ever care for him more.”

“And in that moment - sitting on the splintering veranda steps of Orchard House, surrounded by Vegetable Valley, looking up at the first and last great love of her life - Josephine March knew precisely what to do. And even more, she knew she was going to do it. Risk it. Embrace it. Maybe even, one day, lose it. Love. It would be her honor and her pleasure to go down with this particular ship. They could be dashed together upon the rocks, sink together to the ocean floor. Only blurry, ink-splotched pages to mark their watery grave. Because it was always our story. It just never had the right ending.”

“The hardest thing about writing a big poem? Has to be all the lines. A lot of poets would say the fans but I think the lines is what does it. That's why I only did the ones about Paradise, both losing it and regaining it and such. Just two many lines! [laughs] Anyway, I guess--sorry, going back to the hockey thing--for me, I'd want to be the net. Ice second, puck last, obviously.”