It is impossible to explain. But what I like most is to eat. Gabriel Garcia Marquez More Quotes by Gabriel Garcia Marquez More Quotes From Gabriel Garcia Marquez It was the time when they loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Gabriel Garcia Marquez adversity grateful romantic Once again she shuddered with the evidence that time was not passing, as she had just admitted, but that it was turning in a circle. Gabriel Garcia Marquez evidence passing circles A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain. Gabriel Garcia Marquez falcon cranes pain nothing in this world was more difficult than love. Gabriel Garcia Marquez relationship reality world He thought about his people without sentimentality, with a strict closing of his accounts with life, beginning to understand how much he really loved the people he hated most. Gabriel Garcia Marquez closing hated people Only God knows how much I love you. Gabriel Garcia Marquez god-knows love-you romantic Although some men who were easy with their words said that it was worth sacrificing one’s life for a night of love with such an arousing woman, the truth was that no one made any effort to do so. Perhaps, not only to attain her but also to conjure away her dangers, all that was needed was a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love, but that was the only thing that did not occur to anyone. Gabriel Garcia Marquez sacrifice simple night Cease, cows, life is short. Gabriel Garcia Marquez life-is-short cows life-is we had made love without love, half-dressed most of the time and always in the dark so we could imagine ourselves as better than we were. Gabriel Garcia Marquez imagine half dark She let him finish, scratching his head with the tips of her fingers, and without his having revealed that he was weeping from love, she recognized immediately the oldest sobs in the history of man. Gabriel Garcia Marquez weeping fingers men 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 old-you mets age Blood circulated through her veins with the fluidity of a song that branched off into the most hidden areas of her body and returned to her heart, purified by love. Gabriel Garcia Marquez heart song blood The truth was that I could not manage my soul, and I was becoming aware of old age because of my weakness in the face of love. Gabriel Garcia Marquez weakness soul age Jealousy knows more than truth does. Gabriel Garcia Marquez knows doe She would walk through the kitchen at any hour, whenever she was hungry, and put her fork in the pots and eat a little of everything without placing anything on a plate, standing in front of the stove, talking to the serving women, who were the only ones with whom she felt comfortable, the ones she got along with best. Gabriel Garcia Marquez kitchen littles talking Make no mistake: peaceful madmen are ahead of the future. Gabriel Garcia Marquez madmen peaceful mistake It always amuses me that the biggest praise for my work comes for the imagination, while the truth is that there's not a single line in all my work that does not have a basis in reality. The problem is that Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination. Gabriel Garcia Marquez imagination doe reality 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 he was unable to bear in his soul the crushing weight of so much past. Gabriel Garcia Marquez crush children past El mundo habrá acabado de joderse -dijo entonces- el día en que los hombres viajen en primera clase y la literatura en el vagón de carga. Gabriel Garcia Marquez He was weary of the uncertainty of the vicious circle of that eternal war that always found him in the same place, but always older, wearier, even more in the position of not knowing why, or how, or even when. Gabriel Garcia Marquez circles knowing war
