in Quotes & Aphorisms (Books)
In every novel, the character is a collage: a collage of different characters that you've known, or heard about or read about.
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Aphorisms by Gabriel García Márquez
What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Love)
To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.
from the book "Love in the Time of Cholera" by Mike Newell
in Quotes & Aphorisms (Job)
If I had to give a young writer some advice I would say to write about something that has happened to him; it's always easy to tell whether a writer is writing about something that has happened to him or something he has read or been told.
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With both you are working with reality, a material just as hard as wood.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Books)
Home is where your books are, they say, but for me it's where my recordings are. I've got more than five thousand of them
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With my joshing I've probably contributed toward the idea that I lack literary education, that I write only from personal experiences, that my sources are Faulkner, Hemingway, and other foreign writers. Little is known about my knowledge of Colombian literature. No doubt, my influences, especially in Colombia, are extra-literary. More than any book, I think what opened my eyes was music, vallenato songs.
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Forever?
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The people who really helped me to get rid of my intellectual attitude towards the short story were the writers of the American Lost Generation. I realized that their literature had a relationship with life that my short stories didn't.
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Lost in the solitude of his immense power, he began to lose direction. He was bothered by the people who cheered him in neighboring villages, and he imagined that they were the same cheers they gave the enemy. Everywhere he met adolescents who looked at him with his own eyes, who spoke to him with his own voice, who greeted him with the same mistrust with which he greeted them, and who said they were his sons. He felt scattered about, multiplied, and more solitary than ever. He was convinced that his own officers were lying to him. He fought with the Duke of Marlborough. "The best friend a person has," he would say at that time, "is one who has just died.".
from the book "" by Gabriel García Márquez