two people can sleep in the same bed and still be alone when they close their eyes

I lost some of my friends because I got so famous, people who just assumed that I would be different now. I felt like everyone hated me. That is the most unhappy time of my life.

They were each like a mirror for the other, reflecting the changes in themselves.

It was as if I were writing letters to hold together the pieces of my crumbling life.

All things in my novels are real for me. Some western critics said that Garcia Marquez's novels are magic realism. However, I believe that Marquez must have experienced everything in his novels.

It seems to me, though, that you always understand very well what I can't say very well. Trouble is I end up being even worse at saying things well.

Time really is one big continuous cloth, no? We habitually cut out pieces of time to fit us, so we tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on.