Chronicles Of A Death Foretold Quotes

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He always considered death an unavoidable professional hazard.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
They looked like two children," she told me. And that thought frightened her, because she'd always felt that only children are capable of everything.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
He was healthier than the rest of us, but when you listened with the stethoscope you could hear the tears bubbling inside his heart.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
They’re perfect,” she was frequently heard to say. “Any man will be happy with them because they’ve been raised to suffer.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
She was certain that the Vicario brothers were not as eager to carry out the sentence as to find someone who would do them the favor of stopping them.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
The truth is that she spoke about her misfortune without any shame in order to cover up the other misfortune, the real one, that was burning in her insides.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
He was carrying a suitcase with clothing in order to stay and another just like it with almost two thousand letters that she had written him. They were arranged by date in bundles ties with colored ribbons, and they were all unopened.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Son perfectas -le oía decir con frecuencia-. Cualquier hombre será feliz con ellas, porque han sido criadas para sufir.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Halfway through one August day, while she was embroidering with her friends, she heard someone coming to the door. She didn't have to look to see who it was. "He was fat and was beginning to lose his hair, and he already needed glasses to see things close by," she told me. "But it was him, God damn it, it was him!
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
The only thing that didn't occur to her was to give up. Nevertheless, he seemed insensible to her delirium; it was like writing to nobody.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Bana bir ön yargı verin, dünyayı yerinden oynatayım.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Mistress of her fate for the first time, Angela Vicario then discovered that hate and love are reciprocal passions.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
...I caught the smell of a warm woman and I saw the eyes of an insomniac leopard in the darkness...
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
ولم يكن ليستوعب، بصورة خاصة، كيف يمكن للحياة أن تستفيد من مصادفات كثيرة محظورة على الأدب، لتتم دون أي عرقلة عملية موت معلنة إلى ذلك الحد.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
«Parecían dos niños», me dijo. Y esa reflexión la asustó, pues siempre había pensado que sólo los niños son capaces de todo.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
They all saw him come out, and they all understood that now he knew they were going to kill him
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
القدر يجعلنا غير مرئيين.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
اللعنة! لا يمكنك أن تتصور كم هو شاق قتل إنسان!" هكذا قال بابلو فيكاريو
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
I couldn’t bring myself to admit that life might end up resembling bad literature so much.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Then they both kept on knifing him against the door with alternate and easy stabs, floating in the dazzling backwater they had found on the other side of fear.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Kader bizleri görünmez kılar.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
الشرف هو الحب" , هكذا كنت أسمع أمي تقول
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Era como estar despierto dos veces". Esa frase me hizo pensar que lo más insoportable para ellos en el calabozo debió haber sido la lucidez.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Anda, niña- le dijo temblando de rabia-: dinos quién fue. Ella se demoró apenas el tiempo necesario para decir el nombre. Lo buscó en las tinieblas, lo encontró a primera vista entre los tantos y tantos nombres confundibles de este mundo y del otro, y lo dejó clavado en la pared con su dardo certero, como a una mariposa sin albedrío cuya sentencia estaba escrita para siempre. -Santiago Nasar- le dijo.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
It was she who did away with my generation's virginity. She taught us much more than we should have learned, but she taught us above all that there's no place in life sadder than an empty bed.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
She would go to sleep only once and that would be to die.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
...ningún lugar de la vida es más triste que una cama vacía.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Bu yüzden öldü." dedi bana Doktor Dionisio Iguaran. "Bizlerden daha sağlıklıydı, ama insan onun göğsünü dinleyince yüreğinin içinde fokurdayan gözyaşlarını duyabiliyordu.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
She devoted herself with such spirit of sacrifice to the care of her husband and the rearing of her children that at times one forgot she still existed.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Most of those who could have done something to prevent the crime and did not consoled themselves with the pretext that affairs of honor are sacred monopolies, giving access only to those who are part of the drama.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
«Parece maricas» (...) «E era uma pena, porque estava de se barrar com manteiga e comer-se vivo»
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
«... y sentí que me hundía en las delicias de las arenas movedizas de su ternura.»
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Hombres de mala ley, decía en voz muy baja, animales de mierda que no son capaces de hacer nada que no sean desgracias.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
the pursuit of love is like falconry.- chronicle of death foretold
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Kuşlarla ilgili tüm rüyalar hayırlıdır.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Onlar kusursuz kızlar," dediğini duyardım sık sık. "Her erkek onlarla mutlu olur, çünkü acı çekmek için yetiştirilmişler.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Santiago, yavrum!" diye bağırmıştı. "Neyin var?" Santiago Nasar, onu tanımıştı. “Beni öldürdüler, Wene Hala,” demişti.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
He looked like a fairy,' she told me. 'And it was a pity, because I could have buttered him and eaten him alive.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Unlike other girls of the time, who had neglected the cult of death, the four were past mistresses in the ancient science of sitting up with the ill, comforting the dying, and enshrouding the dead.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Al verla así, dentro del marco idílico de la ventana, no quise creer que aquella mujer fuera la que yo creía, porque me resistía a admitir que la vida terminara por parecerse tanto a la mala literatura.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
He was a man burning with the fever of literature. He never thought it legitimate that life should make use of so many coincidences forbidden literature, so that there should be the untrammeled fulfillment of a death so clearly foretold.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Keyifli olduğu bir gece mürekkep hokkası yeni bitirdiği mektubun üzerine devrilmiş, mektubu yırtıp atmak yerine altına bir dipnot eklemişti: "Aşkımın kanıtı olarak sana gözyaşlarımı yolluyorum." Bazı zamanlar ağlamaktan usanç getirerek kendi çılgınlığını alaya alıyordu.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
I didn't do any of what they told me,' she said, 'because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was all something dirty that shouldn't be done to anybody, much less to the poor man who had the bad luck to marry me.' So she let herself get undressed openly in the lighted bedroom, safe now from all the acquired fears that had ruined her life. 'It was very easy,' she told me, 'because I'd made up my mind to die.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
El odio y el amor son pasiones recíprocas.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Sobre todo, nunca le pareció legítimo que la vida se sirviera de tantas casualidades prohibidas a la literatura, para que se cumpliera sin tropiezos una muerte tan anunciada.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Angela Vicario only dared hint at the inconvenience of a lack of love, but her mother quickly demolished it with one single phrase: 'Love can be learned too.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Entonces la vio tal como era: Una pobre mujer consagrada al culto de sus defectos
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Life will be too short for people to tell about it.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Disproportionate eating was always the only way she could ever mourn and I'd never seen her do it with such grief.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
يمكن للحياة أن تنتهي إلى أن تكون مشابهة جداً للأدب الرديء
غابرييل غارسيا ماركيز (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Ningún lugar de la vida es más triste que una cama vacía
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Me trató igual que siempre, como a un primo remoto (...) Al cabo de pocos minutos ya no me pareció tan envejecida como a primera vista, sino casi tan joven como en el recuerdo (...)
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Ever since then they were still linked by a serious affection, but without the disorder of love, and she had so much respect for him that she never again went to bed with anyone if he was present.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
He'd dreamed he was going through a grove of timber trees where a gentle drizzle was falling, and for an instant he was happy in his dream, but when he awoke he felt completely spattered with bird shit.
Gabriel García Márquez
All right, girl," he said to her, trembling with rage, "tell us who it was." She only took the time necessary to say the name. She looked for it in the shadows, she found it at first sight among the many, many easily confused names form this world and the other, and she nailed it to the wall with her well-aimed dart, like a butterfly with no will whose sentence has always been written. "Santiago Nasar," she said.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
A chill penetrating wail of outrage screamed up from the depts of the Abyss. So loud and horrifying was it that all the citizens of Palanthas woke shruddering from even the deepest sleep and lay in their beds, paralyzed by fear, waiting for the end of the world. The guards on the the city walls could move neither hand nor foot. Shutting their eyes, they cowered in shadows, awaiting death. Babies wimpered in fear, dogs cringed and slunk beneath beds, cat's eyes gleamed. The shriek sounded again, and a pale hand reached out from the Tower gates. A ghastly face, twisted in fury, floated in the dank air. Raistlin did not move. The hand drew near, the face promised him tortures of the Abyss, where he would be dragged for his great folly in daring the curse of the Tower. The skeletal hand touched Raistlin's heart. Then, trembling, it halted. 'Know this,' said Raistlin calmly, looking up at the Tower, pitching his voice so that it could be heard by those within. 'I am the master of the past and the present! My coming was foretold. For me, the gates will open.' The skeletal hand shrank back and, with a slow sweeping motion of invitation, parted the darkness. The gates swung open upon silent hinges. Raistlin passed through them without a glance at the hand or the pale visage that was lowered in reverence. As he entered, all the black and shapeless, dark and shadowy things dwelling within the Tower bowed in homage. Then Raistlin stopped and looked around him. 'I am home,' he said.
Margaret Weis (Dragons of Spring Dawning (Dragonlance: Chronicles, #3))
My mother gave him the final blessing in a letter in October: 'People like him mean a lot,' she told me, 'because he's honest and has a good heart, and last Sunday he received communion on his knees and helped with the mass in Latin.' In those days it wasn't permitted to receive communion standing and everything was in Latin, but my mother is accustomed to noting that kind of superfluous detail when she wants to get to the heart of the matter.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
The mayor informed General Petronio San Roman of the episode, down to the last literal phrase, in an alarming telegram. General San Roman must have followed his son's wishes to the letter, because he didn't come for him, but sent his wife with their daughters and two other older women who seemed to be her sisters. They came on a cargo boat, locked in mourning up to their necks because of Bayardo San Roman's misfortunes, and with their hair hanging loose in grief. Before stepping onto land, they took off their shoes and went barefoot through the streets up to the hilltop in the burning dust of noon, pulling out strands of hair by the roots and wailing loudly with such high-pitched shrieks that they seemed to be shouts of joy. I watched them pass from Magdalena Oliver's balcony, and I remember thinking that distress like theirs could only be put on in order to hide other, greater shames.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Ella insistió en que se fueran juntos de inmediato porque el desayuno estaba servido. 'Era una insistencia rara - me dijo Cristo Bedoya -. Tanto, que a veces he pensado que Margot ya sabiá que lo iban a matar y quería esconderlo en tu casa.' Sin embargo, Santiago Nasar la convenció de que se adelantara mientras él se ponía la ropa de montar, pues tenía que estar temprano en El Divino Rostro para castrar terneros. Se despidió de ella con la misma señal de la mano con que se había despedido de su madre, y se alejó hacia la plaza llevando del brazo a Cristo Bedoya. Fue la última vez que lo vio. Muchos de los que estaban en el puerto sabían que a Santiago Nasar lo iban a matar. Don Lázaro Aponte, coronel de academia en uso de buen retiro y alcalde municipal desde hacía once años, le hizo un saludo con los dedos. 'Yo tenía mis razones muy reales para creer que ya no corría ningún peligro', me dijo. El padre Carmen Amador tampoco se preocupó. 'Cuando lo vi sano y salvo pensé que todo había sido un infundio', me dijo. Nadie se preguntó siquiera si Santiago Nasar estaba prevendio, porque a todos les pareció imposible que no lo estuviera.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Él era más sano que el resto de nosotros, pero cuando usted escuchó con el estetoscopio se podía oír las lágrimas burbujeo dentro de su corazón.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Estaba más sano que nosotros, pero cuando uno lo auscultaba se le sentían borboritar las lágrimas dentro del corazón.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Muchos sabían que en la inconsciencia de la parranda le propuse a Mercedes Barcha que se casara conmigo, cuando apenas había terminado la escuela primaria, tal como ella misma me lo recordó cuando nos casamos catorce años después.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
¡Ese día me di cuenta de lo solas que estamos las mujeres en el mundo!
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
También el amor se aprende.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Angela Vicario, aşk yoksunluğunun sakıncasını şöyle bir dokundurmaya cesaret edebilseyse de, annesi tek bir sözle onu susturmuştu. “Aşk da öğrenilir
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Suddenly I felt the anxious fingers that were undoing the buttons of my shirt, and I caught the dangerous smell of the beast of love lying by my back, and I felt myself sinking into the delights of the quicksand of her tenderness.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
The girls had been reared to get married. They knew how to do screen embroidery, sew by machine, weave bone lace, wash and iron, make artificial flowers and fancy candy, and write engagement announcements. Unlike the girls of the time, who had neglected the cult of death, the four were past mistresses in the ancient science of sitting up with the ill, comforting the dying, and enshrouding the dead.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
她没有拖延时间,几乎马上说出了那个名字。她在黑暗中寻找着,第一眼就从这个世界和另一个世界那么多混杂的名字中找到了那个名字,并且用她那百发百中的标枪将它像一只没有意志的蝴蝶那样钉牢在墙壁上,对它的判决就这样一直留在那墙上。
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold (SparkNotes Literature Guide Series))
No dia em que iam matá-lo, Santiago Nasar levantou-se às cinco e meia da manhã [...]
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
The brothers were brought up to be men. The girls had been reared to get married.
Gabriel García Márquez
„Pewnej nocy zapytał mnie, jaki dom najbardziej mi się podoba – opowiadała mi Angela Vicario. – A ja odpowiedziałam mu, zupełnie nie wiedząc, po co mnie o to pyta, że najładniejszym domem w miasteczku jest domek wdowca Xius”. Osobiście odpowiedziałbym tak samo. Domek ten stał na wysmaganym przez wiatry wzgórzu, z którego widać było bezkresny raj bagnisk pokrytych fioletowymi zawilcami, zaś w jasne letnie dni można było ujrzeć przejrzysty widnokrąg Karaibów i transatlantyki pasażerskie w Cartagena de Indias. Bayardo San Roman udał się jeszcze tej samej nocy do Club Social i przysiadł się do stolika wdowca Xius na partię domina. –Szanowny wdowcze – powiedział mu – kupuję pański dom. –Nie jest na sprzedaż – odrzekł wdowiec. – Kupuję ze wszystkim, co jest w środku. Wdowiec Xius wytłumaczył mu ze staroświecką uprzejmością, że wszystkie znajdujące się w domu przedmioty były kupowane przez jego małżonkę w ciągu całego życia pełnego wyrzeczeń i że tym samym stanowią dla niego jakby cząstkę jej samej. „Mówił ze ściśniętym sercem – powiedział mi grający wówczas z nimi doktor Dionisio Iguaran. – Byłem pewien, że wolałby umrzeć, niż sprzedać dom, w którym był szczęśliwy przez ponad trzydzieści lat”. Bayardo San Roman również uznał jego racje. –Dobrze – powiedział. – Wobec tego niech mi pan sprzeda pusty dom. Wdowiec bronił się jednak do końca gry. Po trzech nocach Bayardo San Roman, już lepiej przygotowany, ponownie przysiadł się do stolika gry w domino. –Szanowny wdowcze – zaczął znów – ile kosztuje dom? –Jest bezcenny. –Proszę podać jakąkolwiek cenę. –Przykro mi, Bayardo – odparł wdowiec – ale wy, młodzi, nie rozumiecie, co to znaczy słuchać głosu serca. Bayardo San Roman nawet się nie namyślał. –Powiedzmy, pięć tysięcy pesos – zaproponował. –Gra pan uczciwie – odparł mu wdowiec starając się zachować godność. – Ten dom nie jest tyle wart. –Dziesięć tysięcy – powiedział Bayardo San Roman. – Od ręki i gotówką, banknot po banknocie. Wdowiec popatrzył na niego oczyma pełnymi łez. „Płakał z wściekłości – wyznał mi doktor Dionisio Iguaran, który nie tylko był lekarzem, ale miał też zacięcie literackie. – Wyobraź sobie: taka suma w zasięgu ręki, a tu trzeba odmówić przez zwykłą słabość serca”. Wdowiec Xius nie mógł wydać z siebie głosu, lecz bez wahania odmówił ruchem głowy. –Wobec tego proszę, by wyświadczył mi pan ostatnią grzeczność – powiedział Bayardo San Roman. – Proszę tu na mnie zaczekać pięć minut. Po pięciu minutach rzeczywiście wrócił do Club Social z sakwami inkrustowanymi srebrem i położył na stole dziesięć plików banknotów po tysiąc, jeszcze opasanych sygnowanymi banderolami Banku Narodowego. Wdowiec Xius umarł w dwa miesiące później. „To go zabiło – mawiał doktor Dionisio Iguaran. – Był zdrowszy od nas wszystkich, ale kiedy się osłuchiwało jego serce, w środku słychać było plusk łez”. Sprzedał bowiem nie tylko dom łącznie ze wszystkim, co się w nim znajdowało, ale oprócz tego poprosił Bayarda San Roman, by należność spłacał mu ratami, gdyż nie pozostała mu na pocieszenie nawet skrzynia, w której mógłby schować tyle pieniędzy.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold (KnowledgeNotes))
Pewnej nocy zapytał mnie, jaki dom najbardziej mi się podoba – opowiadała mi Angela Vicario. – A ja odpowiedziałam mu, zupełnie nie wiedząc, po co mnie o to pyta, że najładniejszym domem w miasteczku jest domek wdowca Xius”. Osobiście odpowiedziałbym tak samo. Domek ten stał na wysmaganym przez wiatry wzgórzu, z którego widać było bezkresny raj bagnisk pokrytych fioletowymi zawilcami, zaś w jasne letnie dni można było ujrzeć przejrzysty widnokrąg Karaibów i transatlantyki pasażerskie w Cartagena de Indias. Bayardo San Roman udał się jeszcze tej samej nocy do Club Social i przysiadł się do stolika wdowca Xius na partię domina. –Szanowny wdowcze – powiedział mu – kupuję pański dom. –Nie jest na sprzedaż – odrzekł wdowiec. – Kupuję ze wszystkim, co jest w środku. Wdowiec Xius wytłumaczył mu ze staroświecką uprzejmością, że wszystkie znajdujące się w domu przedmioty były kupowane przez jego małżonkę w ciągu całego życia pełnego wyrzeczeń i że tym samym stanowią dla niego jakby cząstkę jej samej. „Mówił ze ściśniętym sercem – powiedział mi grający wówczas z nimi doktor Dionisio Iguaran. – Byłem pewien, że wolałby umrzeć, niż sprzedać dom, w którym był szczęśliwy przez ponad trzydzieści lat”. Bayardo San Roman również uznał jego racje. –Dobrze – powiedział. – Wobec tego niech mi pan sprzeda pusty dom. Wdowiec bronił się jednak do końca gry. Po trzech nocach Bayardo San Roman, już lepiej przygotowany, ponownie przysiadł się do stolika gry w domino. –Szanowny wdowcze – zaczął znów – ile kosztuje dom? –Jest bezcenny. –Proszę podać jakąkolwiek cenę. –Przykro mi, Bayardo – odparł wdowiec – ale wy, młodzi, nie rozumiecie, co to znaczy słuchać głosu serca. Bayardo San Roman nawet się nie namyślał. –Powiedzmy, pięć tysięcy pesos – zaproponował. –Gra pan uczciwie – odparł mu wdowiec starając się zachować godność. – Ten dom nie jest tyle wart. –Dziesięć tysięcy – powiedział Bayardo San Roman. – Od ręki i gotówką, banknot po banknocie. Wdowiec popatrzył na niego oczyma pełnymi łez. „Płakał z wściekłości – wyznał mi doktor Dionisio Iguaran, który nie tylko był lekarzem, ale miał też zacięcie literackie. – Wyobraź sobie: taka suma w zasięgu ręki, a tu trzeba odmówić przez zwykłą słabość serca”. Wdowiec Xius nie mógł wydać z siebie głosu, lecz bez wahania odmówił ruchem głowy. –Wobec tego proszę, by wyświadczył mi pan ostatnią grzeczność – powiedział Bayardo San Roman. – Proszę tu na mnie zaczekać pięć minut. Po pięciu minutach rzeczywiście wrócił do Club Social z sakwami inkrustowanymi srebrem i położył na stole dziesięć plików banknotów po tysiąc, jeszcze opasanych sygnowanymi banderolami Banku Narodowego. Wdowiec Xius umarł w dwa miesiące później. „To go zabiło – mawiał doktor Dionisio Iguaran. – Był zdrowszy od nas wszystkich, ale kiedy się osłuchiwało jego serce, w środku słychać było plusk łez”. Sprzedał bowiem nie tylko dom łącznie ze wszystkim, co się w nim znajdowało, ale oprócz tego poprosił Bayarda San Roman, by należność spłacał mu ratami, gdyż nie pozostała mu na pocieszenie nawet skrzynia, w której mógłby schować tyle pieniędzy.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
But he recovered in a few hours, and as soon as his mind had cleared, he threw them out of the house with the best manners he was capable of. “Nobody fucks with me,” he said. “Not even my father with his war veteran’s balls.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
It was a fleeting illusion: the bishop began to make the sign of the cross in the air opposite the crowd on the pier, and he kept on doing it mechanically afterwards, without malice or inspiration, until the boat was lost from view and all that remained was the uproar of the roosters.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
When you sacrifice a steer you don’t dare look into its eyes.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
only children are capable of everything.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
two bloody knives that weren’t bloody yet,
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
they laid the knives, with clean blades, on Father Amador’s desk.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Aver paura della morte fa parte dell'umana natura. Solo nella stretta di una grande sofferenza, la malattia o la vecchiaia fanno accettare l'inevitabile a molti di noi. I pochi che l'abbracciano quando hanno gioventù e vigore vengono ricordati per sempre. Sono chiamati martiri o eroi. Fanatici o santi. Sono ammirati e odiati e pianti molto dopo il perdono e l'oblio delle solite morti. Essi sono la materia delle leggende, e quasi sempre ci si aspetta che tornino in vita... o si prega che non succeda.
Alisa Kwitney (Destiny: A Chronicle of Deaths Foretold)
Suicide, chronicle of a death foretold. Dying to get out of the quagmire of existence on your own legs.
Ruth Baza (La primera vez: una producción de Elías Querejeta)
When I saw her like that in the idyllic frame of the window, I refused to believe that the woman there was the one I thought, because I couldn't bring myself to admit that life would end up resembling bad literature so much.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
One night, in a good mood, she spilled the inkwell over the finished letter and instead of tearing it up she added a postscript: "As proof of my love I send you my tears.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Annemin onlarda kınadığı tek şey, yatmadan önce saçlarını tarama âdetleriydi. "Kızlar," derdi onlara, "geceleyin saçlarınızı taramayın, yoksa denize açılanlar geri dönmekte gecikirler.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Bana gelince; başkalarının belleklerindeki bilgileri parça parça bir araya getirerek yeni baştan oluşturmaya karar verene kadar düğün şöleniyle ilgili pek bulanık anılar vardı kafamda.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Dai-me um preconceito e moverei o mundo
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Dai-me um preconceito e moverei o mundo.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
I caught the smell of a warm woman and I saw the eyes of an insomniac leopard in the darkness, and then I didn't know anything else about myself until the bells began to ring.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
The judge’s name didn’t appear on any of them, but it was obvious that he was a man burning with the fever of literature. He had doubtless read the Spanish classics and a few Latin ones, and he was quite familiar with Nietzsche, who was the fashionable author among magistrates of his time. The marginal notes, and not just because of the color of the ink, seemed to be written in blood. He was so perplexed by the enigma that fate had touched him with, that he kept falling into lyrical distractions that ran contrary to the rigor of his profession. Most of all, he never thought it legitimate that life should make use of so many coincidences forbidden literature, so that there should be the untrammeled fulfillment of a death so clearly foretold.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Mi hermano no lo recordaba. «Pero aunque lo recordara no lo hubiera creído -me ha dicho muchas veces-. ¡A quién carajo se le podía ocurrir que los gemelos iban a matar a nadie, y menos con un cuchillo de puercos!»
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Then they both kept knifing him against the door with alternate and easy stabs, floating in the dazzling backwater they had found on the other side of fear. They didn't hear the shouts of the whole town, frightened by its own crime.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Revenge by the Arabs wasn’t dismissed, but noone, except for the Vicario brothers, had thought of poison. It was supposed, rather, that they would wait for nightfall, in order to pour gasoline through the skylight, and burn up the prisoners in their cell; but even that was too easy a supposition. The Arabs comprised a community of peaceful immigrants who had settled at the beginning of the century in Carribean towns— even in the poorest and most remote—and there they remained, selling colored cloth and bazaar trinkets. They were clannish, hardworking, and Catholic. They married among themselves, imported their wheat, raised lambs in their yards, and grew oregano and eggplants, and playing cards was their only driving passion. The older ones continued speaking the rustic Arabic they had brought from their homeland, and they maintained it intact in the family down to the second generation, but those of the third, with the exception of Santiago Nasar, listened to their parents in Arabic and answered them in Spanish. So it was inconceivable that they would suddenly abandon their pastoral spirit to avenge a death for which we all could have been to blaim.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Ich will keine Blumen bei meiner Beerdigung", sagte er zu mir, ohne zu ahnen, daß ich am nächsten Tag dafür sorgen mußte, daß keine gestreut würden.
Gabriel García Márquez
they were waiting for Santiago Nasar to kill him. The
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Las luces estaban apagadas, pero tan pronto como entré percibí el olor de mujer tibia y vi los ojos de leoparda insomne en la oscuridad, y después no volví a saber de mí mismo hasta que empezaron a sonar las campanas.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Chronicle of a Death Foretold by Gabriel García Márquez, Little Indiscretions by Carmen Posadas, The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith, The Sirens Sang of Murder by Sarah Caudwell, and Death in Zanzibar by M. M. Kaye.
Carolyn G. Hart (Death of the Party (Death on Demand, #16))
Tenía la certidumbre de que los hermanos Vicario no estaban tan ansiosos por cumplir la sentencia como por encontrar a alguien que les hiciera el favor de impedirselo.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
—¡Santiago, hijo —le gritó—, qué te pasa! —Que me mataron, niña Wene —dijo.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)
Entonces corrió hacia la puerta y la cerró de un golpe.
Gabriel García Márquez (Chronicle of a Death Foretold)