you can tell the deepest truths with the lies of fiction
Isabel AllendeWrite what should not be forgotten.
Isabel AllendeMots clés writing on-writing writing-advice forgotten
The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night.
Isabel AllendeMots clés books
Barrabas came to us by sea, the child Clara wrote in her delicate calligraphy.
Isabel AllendeMots clés first-sentence
Writing is a constant exercise in longing.
Isabel AllendeWhen love exists, nothing else matters, not life’s predicaments, not the fury of the years, not a physical winding down or scarcity of opportunity.
Isabel AllendeThere is no death, daughter. People die only when we forget them,' my mother explained shortly before she left me. 'If you can remember me, I will be with you always.
Isabel AllendeMots clés remembrance immortality
She asked herself a thousand times why she had hungered so desperately to belong body and soul to Joaquin Andieta when truth she had never been totally happy in his arms, and could explain it only in terms of first love. She had been ready to fall in love when he came to the house to unload some cargo; the rest was instinct. She had merely obeyed the most powerful and ancient of calls, but it had happened an eternity ago and seven thousand miles away. Who she was then and what she had seen in him she could not say, only that now her heart was far away from there. Not only was she tired of looking for him but deep down she did not want to find him; at the same time, though, she could not go on riddled with doubt. She needed an ending for that phase in order to begin a new love with a clean slate
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We only have what we give.
Isabel AllendeMots clés compassion charity helping-others
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Perhaps we are in this world to search for love, find it and lose it, again and again. With each love, we are born anew, and with each love that ends we collect a new wound. I am covered with proud scars.
Isabel AllendePage 1 de 37.
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