Gabriel Garcia Marquez - Tumblr Posts
The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love.
«Siempre con la voz de un hombre de noventa años que no aprendió a pensar como viejo»
—Memoria de mis putas tristes.
«Siempre había entendido que morirse de amor no era más que una licencia poética»
—Gabriel García Márquez
Muero de amor por ella...
“She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst, and only then did she discover how much she missed the whiff of oregano on the porch and the smell of roses at dusk, and even the bestial nature of the parvenus. Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.”
— Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
"Nothing is ever again the same thing twice. Not even Love, nor the People. Not even Life... With time everything passes. I have seen, with some patience, to the unforgettable become oblivion, and the essentials left over"
~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez
"Nada vuelve a ser lo mismo dos veces. Ni el Amor, ni las Personas. Ni la Vida ... Con el tiempo todo pasa. He visto, con algo de paciencia, a lo inolvidable volverse olvido, y a lo imprescindible sobrar" Gabriel García Márquez
That is how they were: they spent their lives proclaiming their proud origins, the historic merits of the city, the value of its relics, its heroism, its beauty, but they were blind to the decay of the years. Dr. Juvenal Urbino, on the other hand, loved it enough to see it with the eyes of truth.
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (via wholesomeobsessive)
Life would have been quite another matter for them both if they had learned in time that it was easier to avoid great matrimonial catastrophes than trivial everyday miseries. But if they had learned anything together, it was that wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good.
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (via wholesomeobsessive)
“…and it was always without pretensions of loving or being loved although always in the hope of finding something that resembled love but without the problems of love.”
Love in The Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez
As coisas têm vida própria. Tudo é questão de despertar a sua alma.
Cem Anos de Solidão, Gabriel García Márquez