The Only Everyday And Eternal Reality Was

More Than Mother And Son, They Were Accomplices In Solitude.

Tell Him,' The Colonel Said, Smiling, 'that A Person Doesn’t Die When He Should But When He Can.

And The Two Of Them Loved Each Other For A Long Time In Silence Without Making Love Again.

Most Critics Don't Realize That A Novel Like One Hundred Years Of Solitude Is A Bit Of A Joke, Full Of Signals To Close Friends; And So, With Some Pre-ordained Right To Pontificate They Take On The Responsibility Of Decoding The Book And Risk Making Terrible Fools Of Themselves.

She Searched The Truth With An Anguish Almost As Great As Her Terrible Fear Of Finding It .