No medicine cures what happiness cannot.

It had to teach her to think of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end it itself.

There [is] no innocence more dangerous than the innocence of age.

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.

This was when I heard that the first symptom of old age is when you begin to resemble your father.

Before reaching the final line, however, he had already understood that he would never leave that room, for it was foreseen that the city of mirrors (or mirages) would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men at the precise moment when Aureliano Babilonia would finish deciphering the parchments, and that everything written on them was unrepeatable since time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth.

The truth is that I know very few novelists who have been satisfied with the adaptation of their books for the screen.