He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.

Curiosity is one of the many masks of love.

Most critics don't realize that a novel like One Hundred Years of Solitude is a bit of a joke, full of signals to close friends; and so, with some pre-ordained right to pontificate they take on the responsibility of decoding the book and risk making terrible fools of themselves.

Only God knows how much I love you.

I would not have traded the delights of my suffering for anything in the world.

A person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground.

All human beings have three lives: public, private, and secret.