Many years later as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice。
We fought all those wars and all of it just so that we didn’t have to paint our houses blue。
The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude。
The past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end.
A person doesn't die when he should but when he can.
The anxiety of falling in love could not find repose except in bed.
One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship。
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.