Zafon Quotes

Fools talk, cowards are silent, wise men listen.

Paris is the only city in the world where starving to death is still considered an art.

Once, in my father's bookshop, I heard a regular customer say that few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart. Those first images, the echo of words we think we have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a palace in our memory to which, sooner or later—no matter how many books we read, how many worlds we discover, or how much we learn or forget—we will return.

that as long as we are being remembered, we remain alive.

Every time a book changes hands, every time someone runs his eyes down its pages, its spirit grows and strengthens.

I still remember the day my father took me to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books for the first time.

That book taught me that by reading, I could live more intensely. It could give me back the sight I had lost. For that reason alone, a book that didn't matter to anyone changed my life.

I'm not talking to anyone, I'm delivering a monologue. It's the inebriated man's prerogative.

A writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never forget the sweet poison of vanity in his blood and the belief that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of talent, the dream of literature will provide him with a roof over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and what he covets the most: his name printed on a miserable piece of paper that surely will outlive him. A writer is condemned to remember that moment, because from then on he is doomed and his soul has a price.

En ese momento, con esa certeza que sólo se tiene un par de veces en la vida, supe que iba a pasar el resto de mi vida a su lado.

Keep your dreams, you will never know when you need them

In fact I don't think of literature, or music, or any art form as having a nationality. Where you're born is simply an accident of fate. I don't see why I shouldn't be more interested in say, Dickens, than in an author from Barcelona simply because I wasn't born in the UK. I do not have an ethno-centric view of things, much less of literature. Books hold no passports. There's only one true literary tradition: the human.

Una historia no tiene principio ni fin, tan solo puertas de entrada.

[Carlos] Ruiz Zafon holds dear the belief that when you read a book, you take a holiday in the brain of the writer.

Why is it that the less one has to say the more one says it in the most pompous and pedantic way possible?... Is it to fool the world or just to fool themselves?

Ustedes sabrán en qué desperdician el tiempo y el dinero. Yo me quedo leyendo, que la vida es breve.

I knew then that I would devote every minute we had left together to making her happy, to repairing the pain I had caused her and returning to her what I never known how to give her. These pages will be our memory until she drows her last breath in my arms and I take her forever and escape at last to a place where neither heaven nor hell will ever be able to find us.

—¿Y cómo me ves tú a mí? —Como un misterio. —Ese es el cumplido más raro que me han hecho nunca. —No es un cumplido. Es una amenaza. —¿Y eso? —Los misterios hay que resolverlos, averiguar qué esconden. —A lo mejor te decepcionas al ver lo que hay dentro. —A lo mejor me sorprendo. Y tú también.

Do you want to set fire to the whole world and burn with it? Let’s do it together. You fix the price.

Viviamo nel ricordo di chi ci ama

Truth is, only the useless get to the top in this country.

Everything in life is nonsense. It's just a question of perspective.

The only use for military service is that it reveals the number of morons in the population," he would remark. "And that can be discovered in the first two weeks; there's no need for two years. Army, Marriage, the Church and Banking: the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Yes, go on, laugh.

Every book has a soul, the soul of the person who wrote it and the soul of those who read it and dream about it” – Carlos Ruiz Zafon, The Angel’s Game.

She wore an ivory-white dress and held the world in her eyes. I barely remember the priest's words or the faces of the guests, full of hope, who filled the church on that March morning. All that remains in my memory is the touch of her lips and, when I half opened my eyes, the secret oath I carried with me and would remember all the days of my life.

Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what happened, until the moment comes when we no longer recognize them & they return, with another face and another name, to devour what they left behind.

Army, Marriage, the Church and Banking: the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

En un universo infinito hay demasiadas cosas que se escapan a la comprensión humana

Τα βιβλία είναι καθρέφτες. Βλέπεις μέσα τους μόνο αυτά που ήδη έχεις μέσα σου.

Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it's an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers us only what we carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind, and great readers are becoming more scarce by the day.

La Envidia es la Religión de los Mediocres. (Pedro Vidal en "El Juego del Ángel")

Damals wusste ich nicht, dass der Ozean der Zeit früher oder später die Erinnerungen anschwemmt, die wir in ihm versenkt haben.

Siempre he envidiado la capacidad de olvidar que tienen algunas personas par alas cuales el pasado es como una muda de temporada o unos zapatos viejos a los que basta condenar en el fondo de un armario para que sean incapaces de rehacer los pasos perdidos.

People tend to complicate their own lives, as if living isn't complicated enough

When everyone is determined to present someone as a monster, there are two possibilities: either he is a saint or they are not telling the whole story.

- Boys my age are boring. They have nothing to say and half of them seem like complete idiots. I was going to say that they didn't improve with age but didn't want to spoil her illusions.

Mi amigo Óscar es uno de estos príncipes sin reino que corren por ahí esperando que los beses para transformarse en sapo. Lo entiende todo al revés y por eso me gusta tanto. La gente que piensa que lo entiende todo a derechas hace las cosas a izquierdas,y eso, viniendo de una zurda,lo dice todo. Me mira y se cree que no lo veo. Imagina que me evaporaré si me toca y que,si no lo hace,se va a evaporar él. Me tiene en un pedestal tan alto que no sabe cómo subirse. Piensa que mis labios son la puerta del paraíso,pero no sabe que están envenenados. Yo soy tan cobarde que,por no perderle,no se lo digo. Finjo que no le veo y que sí,que me voy a evaporar... Mi amigo Óscar es uno de estos príncipes que harían bien manteniéndose alejados de los cuentos y de las princesas que lo habitan. No sabe que es el príncipe azul quien tiene que besar a la bella durmiente para que despierte de su sueño eterno,pero eso es porque Óscar ignora que todos los cuentos son mentiras,aunque no todas las mentiras son cuentos.Los príncipes no son azules y las durmientes, aunque sean bellas, nunca despiertan de su sueño. Es el mejor amigo que nunca he tenido y, si algún día me tropiezo con Merlín,le daré las gracias por haberlo cruzado en mi camino.

Una historia es, en definitiva, una conversación entre quien la narra y quien la escucha, y un narrador solo puede contar hasta donde le llega el oficio y un lector solo puede leer hasta donde lleva escrito en el alma.

you don't know what thirst is until you drink for the first time” ― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Angel's Game

Martin, fables are possibly one of the most interesting literary forms ever invented. Do you know what they teach us? Moral lessons? No. They teach us that human beings learn and absorb ideas and concepts through narrative, through stories, not through lessons or theoretical speeches.

All I know is that once Julián told the kids in the building that he had a sister only he could see. He said she came out of mirrors as if she were made of thin air and that she lived with Satan himself in a palace at the bottom of a lake.

I still remember the day my father took me to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books for the first time. It was the early summer of 1945, and we walked through the streets of a Barcelona trapped beneath ashen skies as dawn poured over Rambla de Santa Monica in a wreath of liquid copper.

Ein Geheimnis ist soviel wert wie der der es uns anvertraut.

... lo que cuenta a veces no es lo que se da, sino lo que se cede." La sombra del viento

Never trust anyone Daniel, especially the people you admire

The day I charge an unbeliever like you for the word of God will be the day I'm struck dead by lightning, and with good reason.

Beatriz Aquilar : i libri sono specchi in cui troviamo solo ciò che abbiamo dentro di noi, e (...) la lettura coinvolge mente e cuore. - L'ombra del vento

les livres sont des miroirs,et l`on n y voit que ce qu`on porte en soi-meme.

- Ten świat nie zginie od bomby atomowej, jak prorokują gazety, ale umrze ze śmiechu, ze strywalizowania, z obracania wszystkiego w żart, na domiar złego w kiepski żart.

... a principal diferença entre um homem e uma mulher é que um homem põe sempre o estomago à frente do coração. Uma mulher faz sempre o contrário.

Knjige su ogledala: u njima vidiš samo ono što već nosiš u sebi.

The same thing that had happened with the flowers was happening with my longing: once I held it in my hands, I didn't know where to put it.

i libri sono specchi in cui troviamo solo ciò che abbiamo dentro di noi, e (...) la lettura coinvolge mente e cuore, due merci sempre più rare.

Without further ado I left the place, finding my route by the marks I had made on the way in. As I walked in the dark through the tunnels and tunnels of books, I could not help being overcome by a sense of sadness. I couldn't help thinking that if I, by pure chance, had found a whole universe in a single unknown book, buried in that endless necropolis, tens of thousands more would remain unexplored, forgotten forever. I felt myself surrounded by millions of abandoned pages, by worlds and souls without an owner sinking in an ocean of darkness, while the world that throbbed outside the library seemed to be losing its memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.

In dieser Nacht jedoch kam die tanzende Finsternis nicht vom Wald her, sondern aus seinem eigenen Inneren.

Laimingas tas, kurį aploja kvailiai,nes jo siela niekada jiems nepriklausys

Fermin hung up the phone and went back to the waiting room. Fernandito watched him anxiously. “Who were you talking to?” “To common sense.

Leger, huwelijk, kerk en bankwezen: de vier ruiters van de apocalyps.

La meritocrazia e il clima mediterraneo sono di necessità incompatibili. È il prezzo che paghiamo per avere il miglior olio d'oliva d mondo, immagino.

Le certezze confortano, ma si impara solo dubitando.

Vous avez du poison au cœur, mademoiselle.

Завистта е религията на посредствените. Тя им носи утеха, откликва на тревогите, които ги гризат отвътре, и в крайна сметка разлага душата им и им позволява да оправдаят собствената си нищожност и алчност - дотам, че да ги приемат за добродетели и да повярват, че райските двери ще се отворят само за нещастници като тях.Нещастници, които минават през живота, без да оставят друга следа освен мизерните си намерения да омаловажават останалите и да отхвърлят, по възможност даже да унищожават онези, които със самото си съществуване и качества ясно изобличават тяхното тесногръдие, скудоумие и страхливост. Блажен е онзи, по когото лаят идиотите, защото неговата душа никога не ще им принадлежи.

Cdo liber, cdo vellim qe shikon ketu ka shpirtin e vet, shpirtin e atij qe e ka shkruar dhe te atyre qe e kane lexuar, te atij qe ka jetuar e te atij qe ka enderruar permes tij. Sa here qe nje liber nderron zot, sa here qe nje veshtrim i ri fluturon mbi fletet e tij, shpirti i librit rimerr fuqi.

Few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart. Those first images, the echo of worlds we think we have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a place in our memory to which, sooner or later- no matter how many books we read, how many worlds we discover, or how much we learn or forget- we will return.

But I couldn't absorb the idea that death could actually walk by my side, with a human face and a heart that was poisoned with hatred, that death could be dressed in a uniform or a raincoat, queue up at a cinema, laugh in bars, or take his children out for a walk to Ciudadela Park in the morning, and then, in the afternoon, make someone disappear in the dungeons of Monjuïc Castle or in a common grave with no name or ceremony.

Julian, locul acesta este o taină, un sanctuar. Fiecare carte, fiecare tom pe care-l vezi are suflet. Sufletul celui care a scris-o și sufletul celor care au citit-o, au trăit și au visat cu ea. De fiecare dată când o carte ajunge în mâinile altcuiva, de fiecare dată când altcineva îți lasă privirea să alunece pe paginile ei, un spirit crește și se face tot mai puternic. Când bunicul tău m-a adus aici, cu mulți ani în urmă, locul acesta era deja vechi. Poate că e la fel de vechi ca orașul însuși. Nimeni nu știe exact de când există sau cine l-a creat. O să-ți spun ce mi-a spus și mie bunicul tău. Când piere o bibliotecă sau se închide o librărie, când o carte dispare în noianul uitării, cei care știm de existența acestui loc, paznicii lui, facem tot ce trebuie pentru ca ea să ajungă aici. În locul acesta cărțile de care nu-și mai amintește nimeni, cărțile pierdute în negura timpului, continuă să trăiască, așteptând ca într-o bună zi să ajungă din nou în mâinile unui nou cititor, ale unui nou spirit. La librăria noastră vindem cărți noi și cumpărăm cărți vechi, dar în realitate cărțile nu au stăpân. Fiecare carte de aici a fost cel mai bun prieten al cuiva. Acum ne mai are doar pe noi, Julian. Vei putea păstra secretul acesta?

Това е едва началото, за да постигнеш каквото и да било в живота. Природната дарба е като силата на един атлет. Човек може да се роди с повече или по-малко способности, но все пак никой не става атлет само защото се е родил висок, силен или бърз. Трудът, опитът и техниката - те са тези, които създават атлета или човека на изкуството. Уменията, с които идваш на бял свят, са просто боеприпаси. За да постигнеш нещо с тях, е нужно да превърнеш ума си в точно оръдие.

Und so kam es, dass der Wein, der die Menschen ehrlich macht, wenn sie es am wenigsten brauchen, und ihnen Mut gibt, wenn sie besser feige blieben, Cervantes dazu brachte, ihnen die Geschichte in der Geschichte zu erzählen, das, was Mörder und Verrückte die Wahrheit nennen.

Tajna vredi onoliko koliko oni od kojih moramo da je čuvamo.

Knjiga je pismo koje pisac pise sam sebi, kako bi si rekao stvari koje drugacije ne bi mogao shvatiti.

...hunch is your brain's way of taking a shortcut to the truth.'' ''In small towns news travel at the speed of boredom''.

My father had never liked tears. He thought a man never cried for others, only for himself. And if he did, he was a coward and deserved no pity.

Svaka knjiga, svaki svezak koji vidiš, ima dušu. Dušu onoga koji ju je napisao i onih koji su je čitali, proživeli i uz nju sanjarili. Svaki put kada knjiga pređe iz ruke u ruku, svaki put kad neko pogledom preleti njene stranice, njen duh raste i jača. Karlos Ruis Safon: "Senka vetra

Tajna vredi onoliko koliko oni od kojih moramo da je čuvamo. Karlos Ruis Safon: "Senka vetra

Mogla bih da prepričam sadržaj, ali bilo bi to kao opisivati katedralu govoreći za nju da je gomila kamenja koja se završava jednim šiljkom

إن الكذابين في حانة الأغبياء ، يموتون من الحسد

Siempre he envidiado la capacidad de olvidar que tienen algunas personas para las cuales el pasado es como una muda de temporada o unos zapatos viejos a los que basta condenar en el fondo de un armario para que sean incapaces de rehacer los pasos perdidos.

U jednom beskonačnom univerzumu bilo je previše stvari koje su izmicale ljudskoj spoznaji.

Few are the occasions when life allows us to stroll through our dreams, caressing a lost memory with our hands.

Poucas coisas marcam tanto um leitor como o primeiro livro que realmente abre caminho até seu coração.

Cada livro, cada volume que você vê, tem alma. A alma de quem o escreveu e a alma dos que o leram, que viveram e sonharam com ele. Cada vez que um livro troca de mãos, cada vez que alguém passa os olhos pelas suas páginas, seu espírito se expande e a pessoa se fortalece.

Aquele livro me ensinou que ler poderia me fazer viver mais e mais intensamente, que poderia devolver-me a visão que eu tinha perdido. Só por isso aquele livro, que não interessava a ninguém, mudou a minha vida.

Presentes são dados pelo prazer de quem presenteia, não pelo mérito de quem recebe.

Viena iš vaikystės apgaulių yra tai, jog nebūtina suprasti, kad pajustum. Kai protas pradeda suvokti, kas vyksta, žaizdos širdyje jau būna gana gilios.

Komerciniame mene - o visas šio vardo nusipelnęs menas anksčiau ar vėliau tampa komercinis - kvailumas beveik visada slypi stebėtojo žvilgsnyje

Mes suvokiame, koks godulys slepiasi širdyje, tik tada, kai išgirstame skambant sidabrą kišenėje

Neįmanoma pradėti racionalaus dialogo su žmogumi apie tikėjimus ir sąvokas, jeigu jis jų neįgijo protu. Ir nesvarbu, apie ką mes kalbame: apie Dievą, rasę ar pasididžiavimą savo tėvyne

Pasakyk, kuo didžiuojiesi, ir aš pasakysu, ko tau trūksta". Tai kasdieninė mūsų duona.. Neišmanėlis dažnai prisistato kaip žinovas, žmogžudys - kaip pagailos vertas žmogus, nusidėjelis - kaip šventeiva, lupikautojas - kaip nusižeminęs žmogus, storžievis - kaip elegantas, o silpnaprotis - kaip intelektualas

Poezija rašoma ašaromis, apsakymai - krauju, o istorija - nematomu rašalu

Paslaptis vertinga tiek kiek žmonės, dėl kurių ją saugome

Keista, kaip mes smerkiame kitus, užmiršę varganą savo būtį, kol jų netenkame, kai juos iš mūsų atima mirtis. Atima, nes jie niekada mums nepriklausė...

El plan, o la ausencia de uno...

Cada libro, cada volumen que ves aquí, tiene un alma. El alma de la persona que lo escribió y de aquellos que lo leyeron, vivieron y soñaron con él. Cada vez que un libro cambia de manos, cada vez que alguien baja sus ojos a las páginas, su espíritu crece y se fortalece (La Sombra del Viento, Carlos Ruiz Zafón)

The moment you stop to think about whether you love someone, you`ve already stopped loving that person forever.

At the age of ten, Julian announced that he wanted to be a painter, like Velazquez. He dreamed of embarking on canvases that the great master had been unable to paint during his life because, Julian argued, he'd been obliged to paint so many time-consuming portraits of mentally retarded royals.

Cada libro tiene una alma, el alma de quien lo escribió y el de quienes lo han leído y soñado con él.

I ricordi che seppellisci nel silenzio sono quelli che non smettono mai di perseguitarti.

Cărțile sînt oglinzi: vezi în ele numai ceea ce ai deja în tine..

Quid quo pro - you cant get something from nothing .

Lumea asta nu va muri de o bombă atomică, aşa cum spun ziarele, ci va muri de râs, de banalitate, făcând o glumă din tot şi din toate şi, în plus, o glumă proastă.