Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Gabriel José de la Concordia García Márquez; 6 March 1927 – 17 April 2014) was a Colombian novelist, short-story writer, screenwriter and journalist, known affectionately as Gabo or Gabito throughout Latin America. Considered one of the most significant authors of the 20th century and one of the best in the Spanish language, he was awarded the 1972 Neustadt International Prize for Literature and the 1982 Nobel Prize in Literature. He pursued a self-directed education that resulted in his leaving law...
NationalityColombian
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth6 March 1927
CountryColombia
Gabriel Garcia Marquez quotes about
He is ugly and sad... but he is all love.
I ask myself how I could give in to this perpetual vertigo that I in fact provoked and feared. I floated among erratic clouds and talked to myself in front of the mirror in the vain hope of confirming who I was. My delirium was so great that during a student demonstration complete with rocks and bottles, I had to make an enormous effort not to lead it as I held up a sign that would sanctify my truth: I am mad with love.
He always considered death an unavoidable professional hazard.
Because he had not done what she, with her heart in her mouth, had hoped he would do, which was to be a man: deny everything, and swear on his life it was not true, and grow indignant at the false accusation, and shout curses at this ill-begotten society that did not hesitate to trample on one's honor, and remain imperturbable even when forced with crushing proofs of his disloyalty.
Once again she shuddered with the evidence that time was not passing, as she had just admitted, but that it was turning in a circle.
Only God knows how much I love you.
It was then that she realized that the yellow butterflies preceded the appearances of Mauricio Babilonia.
I was asked the other day if I would be interested in the Nobel Prize, but I think that for me it would be an absolute catastrophe. I would certainly be interested in deserving it, but to receive it would be terrible. It would just complicate even more the problems of fame. The only thing I really regret in life is not having a daughter.
The anxiety of falling in love could not find repose except in bed.
There was a house at the foot of the tower, close to the thunder of the waves breaking against the cliffs, where love was more intense because it seemed like a shipwreck.
When he went through the kitchen he kissed Rebeca on the forehead. "Get those bad thoughts out of your head," he told her. "You're going to be happy.
Ah, me, if this is love, then how it torments.
There's no greater misfortune than dying alone.
The weak would never enter the kingdom of love.