Top Carlos Ruiz Zafon Quotes

Carlos Ruiz Zafon Biography

Carlos Ruiz Zafón (Spanish pronunciation: ['karlos 'rwiθ θa'fon]; born 25 September 1964) is a Spanish novelist.

Read about Carlos Ruiz Zafon in Wikipedia

Random Authors

Carlos Ruiz Zafon Quotes

He lost himself in the words and images conjured in his mind and for a while forgot. . . He found himself flying among stars and planets.

Among, Flying, Mind, Stars

I prefer you like this, when you're in a foul mood, because you tell the truth.

Telling The Truth, Mood, Foul, Like, Tell

Barcelona is a very old city in which you can feel the weight of history; it is haunted by history. You cannot walk around it without perceiving it. In Los Angeles, it is quite the opposite: it is an older city than it might seem to be, but you don't perceive this -- every day you get out of your home, you are driving somewhere and sometimes you get this impression that everything was put there the night before.

City, Everything, Home, Night, Opposites, Walk

One never forgets faces one wholeheartedly detests.

Detests, Faces, Forget, Forgets, Never Forget

I've always thought that we are what we remember, and the less we remember, the less we are.

Remember, Thought

The only use for military service is that it reveals the number of morons in the population," he would remark. "And that can be discovered in the first two weeks; there's no need for two years. Army, Marriage, the Church and Banking: the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Yes, go on, laugh.

Army, Marriage, Military, Population, Remark, Two

All true stories begin and end in a cemetery" - The Shadow of the Wind

Begin, Cemetery, Shadow, Stories, Wind

Coincidences are the scars of fate.

Coincidence, Coincidences, Fate, Scar, Scars

How many lost souls do You need, Lord, to satisfy Your hunger? the hatter asked. God, in His infinite silence, looked at him without blinking.

Hatter, Infinite, Lord, Needs, Silence, Soul

That's what happens when people reach old age; nobody remembers they've been bastards too.

Age, Bastards, Nobody, People, Remember

Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it's an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind, and great readers are becoming more scarce by the day.

Art, Book, Read, Reading, Ritual

Thunder and lightning, it's like the end of the world.

Lightning, Thunder, World

Silence makes idiots seem wise even for a minute.

Idiot, Minute, Silence, Wise

I would go to newsstands and buy paperbacks they were selling for tourists, usually bestsellers and mass market paperbacks. In the beginning, it was like going to the Rosetta Stone--I didn?t understand anything, I'd get a headache--but I began to figure it out, and I'd read a lot of Stephen King paperbacks. I've always said he was my English professor.

Buy, Figure, Kings, Paperbacks, Stones, Tourists

While you're working, you don't have to look life in the eye.

Eye, Looks, Look, Working, Life

. . . deep down nobody is bad, only frightened.

Bad, Deep, Deep Down, Down, Frightened, Nobody

That book taught me that by reading, I could live more intensely. It could give me back the sight I had lost. For that reason alone, a book that didn't matter to anyone changed my life.

Book, Reading, Sight, Alone, Intensely

Nothing feeds forgetfulness better than war. . . . We all keep quiet and they try to convince us that what we've seen, what we've done, what we've learned about ourselves and about others, is an illusion, a passing nightmare. Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what happened, until the moment comes when we no longer recognize them and they return, with another face and another name, to devour what they left behind.

Forgetfulness, Memories, Recognize, Tell, Voice, War

Man. . . heats up like a lightbulb: red hot in the twinkling of an eye and cold again in a flash. The female, on the other hand. . . heats up like an iron. Slowly, over a low heat, like tasty stew. But then, once she has heated up, there's no stopping her.

Eye, Hand, Like, Sex, Stew, Women

Every labyrinth has its minotaur

Labyrinth, Minotaur

››

Carlos Ruiz Zafon Biography

Contact Us

About us