Isabel Allende Quotes

I especially like your autumn trees, gracefully letting their leaves fall. That is how I would like to shed my own leaves in this autumn of life, easily and elegantly. Why be so attached to what we are bound to lose anyway? I suppose I mean youth, which has been so present in our conversations.

The longer I live, the more uninformed I feel. Only the young have an explanation for everything.

His calls for justice were lost at the mercy of the wind and human indifference.

Those who seek the truth run the risk of finding it.

الكتابة مثل الشعوذة : لايكفي إخراج أرنب من القبعة ، بل يجب عمل ذلك بأناقة وطريقة ممتعة

-هل ستموت طفلتي؟
- لا أعرف عن هذا، لكنّها ستعاني كثيراً، لا شكّ عندي بذلك.
-مالذي بها؟
- إصرار على الحب. وهو شرّ قويّ. لاشكّ أنها تركت النافذة مفتوحة في الليلة الصافية ودخل في جسدها أثناء نومها. لايوجد سحر ضدّ هذا.

Los hijos, como los libros, son viajes al interior de una misma en los cuales el cuerpo, la mente y el alma cambian de direccion, se vuelven hacia el centro mismo de la existencia.

Happiness is not exuberant or noisy, like pleasure or joy; it’s silent, tranquil, and gentle; it’s a feeling of satisfaction inside that begins with self-love.

She did not believe that the world was a vale of tears but rather a joke that God had played and that it was idiotic to take it seriously.

According to Nadia, who had an astounding gift for languages, words are not that important when you recognize intentions. (p202)

​Courage is a virtue appreciated in a male but considered a defect in our gender. Bold women are a threat to a world that is badly out of balance, in favor of men.

Memory is fiction. We select the brightest and the darkest, ignoring what we are ashamed of, and so embroider the broad tapestry of our lives.

Mi Popo decía que el amor nos vuelve buenos. No importa a quién amemos, tampoco importa ser correspondidos o si la relación es duradera. Basta la experiencia de amar, eso nos transforma.

Silencio antes de nacer, silencio después de la muerte, la vida es puro ruido entre dos insondables silencios.

As my Popo used to say, life is a tapestry we weave day by day with threads of different colors, some heavy and dark, others thin and bright, all the threads having their uses. The stupid things I did are already in the tapestry, indelible, but I’m not going to be weighed down by them till I die. What’s done is done; I have to look ahead.