A few favorite quotes from One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez: “The anxiety of falling in love cannot find repose except in bed.” “Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of loving each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out old people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.” “One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship.” “There is always something left to love.” “Gaston was a pilot … On weekends he would pick her up where she lived … They began to love each other at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet in the Sunday air of the moors, and they felt all the closer together as the beings on earth grew more and more minute … He wasn’t only a fierce lover, with endless wisdom and imagination, but he was also, perhaps, the first man in the history of species who had made an emergency landing and had come close to killing himself and his sweetheart simply to make love in a field of violets.” “It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.” This book is strange and enchanting. I re-read it once a year when the weather’s bitingly cold. It warms me. I adore it.

A few favorite quotes from One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez:

“The anxiety of falling in love cannot find repose except in bed.”

“Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of loving each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out old people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”

“One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship.”

“There is always something left to love.”

“Gaston was a pilot … On weekends he would pick her up where she lived … They began to love each other at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet in the Sunday air of the moors, and they felt all the closer together as the beings on earth grew more and more minute … He wasn’t only a fierce lover, with endless wisdom and imagination, but he was also, perhaps, the first man in the history of species who had made an emergency landing and had come close to killing himself and his sweetheart simply to make love in a field of violets.”

“It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.”

This book is strange and enchanting. I re-read it once a year when the weather’s bitingly cold. It warms me. I adore it.

“New York barmen, taxi drivers and policemen may labor too hard to give the impression of having seen it all before. But there is always a nagging suspicion that they actually have.”

Christopher Hitchens on New York, his adopted home.

Hitch died from pneumonia, a complication of the throat cancer he was suffering from, at a Texan hospital yesterday. He was 62.