Juan Rulfo Quotes

#1. I am talking about misery and all of its implications.

Juan Rulfo

#2. You've been dreaming lies again, Susana.

Juan Rulfo

#3. The sky was filled with fat stars, swollen from the long night. The moon had risen briefly and then slipped out of sight. It was one of those sad moons that no one looks at or pays attention to. It had hung there a while, misshapen, not shedding any light, and then gone to hide behind the hills.

Juan Rulfo

#4. This town is filled with echoes. It's like they were trapped behind the walls, or beneath the cobblestones. When you walk you feel like someone's behind you, stepping in your footsteps.

Juan Rulfo

#5. Her eyelashes lay still; her heart was still.

Juan Rulfo

#6. Nothing can last forever. There isn't any memory, no matter how intense, that doesn't fade out at last.

Juan Rulfo

#7. Every author that creates is a liar;literature is a lie,but from that lie, a recreation of reality is born. Therefore, recreating reality is one of the fundaments of creation.

Juan Rulfo

#8. That town sits on the coals of the earth, at the very mouth of hell. They say that when people from there go to hell, they come back for a blanket.

Juan Rulfo

#9. No one knows better than I do how far heaven is, but I also know all the shortcuts. The secret is to die, when you want to, and not when He proposes. Or else to force Him to take you before your time.

Juan Rulfo

#10. Because to write, one must truly suffer.

Juan Rulfo

#11. This world presses in on us from every side; it scatters fistfuls of our dust across the land
and takes bits and pieces of us as if to water the earth with our blood. What did we do? Why
have our souls rotted away?

Juan Rulfo

#12. There was no air; only the dead, still night fired by the dog days of August. Not a breath. I had to suck in the same air I exhaled, cupping it in my hands before it escaped. I felt it, in and out, less each time ... until it was so thin it slipped through my fingers forever. I mean, forever.

Juan Rulfo

#13. And though there were no children playing, no doves, no blue-shadowed roof tiles, I felt that the town was alive. And that if I heard only silence, it was because I was not accustomed to silence - maybe because my head was still filled with sounds and voices.

Juan Rulfo