The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude.

races condemned to 100 years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth.

Taught him the only thing he had to learn about love: that nobody teaches life anything.

The more transparent the writing, the more visible the poetry.

In her final years she would still recall the trip that, with the perverse lucidity of nostalgia, became more and more recent in her memory.

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.

Ah, me, if this is love, then how it torments.