For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.

A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain.

She sensed it, saw my eyes wet with tears, and only then must have discovered I was no longer the man I had been, and I endured her glance with a courage I never thought I had.

I want the same one, the way she always is, without failures, without fights, without bad memories.

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.

Nothing resembles a person as much as the way he dies.

In that Macondo forgotten even by the birds, where the dust and the heat had become so strong that it was difficult to breathe, secluded by solitude and love and by the solitude of love in a house where it was almost impossible to sleep because of the noise of the red ants, Aureliano, and Amaranta Úrsula were the only happy beings, and the most happy on the face of the earth.