Love In The Time of Cholera remains my favorite novel. And while I know that I've only read his works in translation, the spell he cast on language was truly magical.
Like a flock of yellow butterflies that steal your sleep.
The Captain looked at Fermina Daza and saw on her eyelashes the first glimmer of wintry frost. Then he looked at Florentino Ariza, his invincible power, his intrepid love, and he was overwhelmed by the belated suspicion that it is life, more than death, that has not limits.
"And how long do you think we can keep up this goddamn coming and going?" he asked.
Florentino Ariza had kept his answer ready for fifty-three years, seven months and eleven days and nights.
"Forever," he said.
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