More Quotes by Mario Vargas Llosa
It is easier to imagine the death of one person than that of a hundred or a thousand... Multiplied, suffering becomes abstract. It is not easy to be moved by abstract things.
Lies crushed day and night become truths.
One can't fight with oneself, for this battle has only one loser.
Memory is a snare, pure and simple; it alters, it subtly rearranges the past to fit the present.
Although they say that only idiots are happy, I confess that I felt happy.
No matter how ephemeral it is, a novel is something, while despair is nothing.
Almost seventy years later I remember clearly how the magic of translating the words in books into images enriched my life, breaking the barriers of time and space...
Reading is protesting against the insufficiencies of life.
He felt immense tenderness for her. He was sure that he would always love her, for my happiness and also my misfortune.
When I thought I was going to lose my mind in the face of so much suffering. This is how I discovered that a human being cannot live without believing.
