Citas de Margaret George

• The strong look for more strength, the weak for excuses.

  Margaret George

  Strong, Looks, Excuse

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.198, Pan Macmillan

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• One always imagines that the days that change one’s life must be marked with something extraordinary in nature—storms and lightning, darkness at noon, and so on. In truth they are indistinguishable from any other, which is one reason we feel mocked, as if the world is telling us we are inconsequential.

  Margaret George

  Life, Darkness, Storm

  Margaret George (2011). “Elizabeth I: The Novel”, p.452, Penguin

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• I had a desire to see something besides my own shores, if only to be content to return to them someday. If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance.

  Margaret George

  Travel, Ignorance, Land

  Margaret George (2011). “Mary Queen Of Scotland And The Isles”, p.52, Pan Macmillan

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• La cura para un corazón roto es simple, mi señora. Un baño caliente y una buena noche de sueño.

  Margaret George

  Broken Heart, Good Night, Sleep

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• It is only when our fate hangs in the balance, when our very life depends on something, that we see whether or not we trust that the rope to which we are clinging will support us. If we do not, then we let of of the ledge and swing on it with our full weight.

  Margaret George

  Fate, Swings, Support

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.102, Pan Macmillan

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• Kindness is stronger than iron bars.

  Margaret George

  Kindness, Iron, Stronger

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• Oh, he was just angry, we tell ourselves when someone blurts out something he later apologizes for. But a word, once spoken, lingers forever; to keep peace we pretend to forget, but we never do. Strange that a spoken word can have such lasting power when words carved on stone monuments vanish in spite of all our efforts to preserve them. What we would lose persists, lodged in our minds, and what we would keep is lost to water, moths, moss.

  Margaret George

  Water, Forever, Effort

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.934, Pan Macmillan

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• Things do not happen, we must make them happen

  Margaret George

  Sucede

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.726, Pan Macmillan

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• Thus we use our supposed "knowledge" of others to speak on their behalf, and condemn them for their words we ourselves put in their silent mouths.

  Margaret George

  Use, Mouths, Speak

  Margaret George (2011). “The Autobiography Of Henry VIII”, p.146, Pan Macmillan

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• Los criminales más malvados tienen a Dios en los labios en todo momento, porque Dios es el único que puede estomagarlos.

  Margaret George

  Wicked, Criminals, Lips

  Margaret George (2010). “Mary Queen of Scotland & The Isles: A Novel”, p.832, Macmillan

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• Boredom is that awful state of inaction when the very medicine ― that is, activity ― which could solve it, is seen as odious. Archery? It is too cold, and besides, the butts need re-covering; the rats have been at the straw. Music? To hear it is tedious; to compose it, too taxing. And so on. Of all the afflictions, boredom is ultimately the most unmanning. Eventually, it transforms you into a great nothing who does nothing ― a cousin to sloth and a brother to melancholy.

  Margaret George

  Cousin, Brother, Archery

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• Siempre fui realista, a veces a mi pesar. Pero rara vez a mi pesar.

  Margaret George

  Regret, Sorrow, Sometimes

  Margaret George (2012). “Elizabeth I”, p.223, Pan Macmillan

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• Hope is a straw hat hanging beside a window covered with frost.

  Margaret George

  Frost, Hats, Window

  Margaret George (2011). “Mary Queen Of Scotland And The Isles”, p.743, Pan Macmillan

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• Perhaps life is like an hour glass, with dear ones the sand that slips from the upper glass--the earth--into the second--eternity.

  Margaret George

  Glasses, Dear Ones, Life Is Like

  Margaret George (2012). “Elizabeth I”, p.370, Pan Macmillan

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• To love someone is to catch your breath whenever he walks in the room.

  Margaret George

  Rooms, Walks, Love Someone

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• In my experience, there are two things that no one will admit to: having no sense of humor and being susceptible to flattery.

  Margaret George

  Two, Sense Of Humor, Flattery

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• So I learned two things that night, and the next day, from him: the perfection of a moment, and the fleeting nature of it.

  Margaret George

  Relationship, Loss, Night

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.116, Pan Macmillan

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• When he comes into a room, you give a little gasp, deep inside, far inside,' someone once said when trying to describe what it meant to love.

  Margaret George

  Giving, Trying, Littles

  Margaret George (2011). “Helen of Troy: A Novel”, p.597, Pan Macmillan

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• It is almost impossible to describe happiness, because at the time it feels entirely natural, as if all the rest of your life has been the aberration; only in retrospect does it swim into focus as the rare and precious thing it is. When it is present, it seems to be eternal, abiding forever, and there is no need to examine it or clutch it. Later, when it has evaporated, you stare in dismay at your empty palm, where only a little of the perfume lingers to prove that once it was there, and now is flown.

  Margaret George

  Focus, Forever, Swim

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.683, Pan Macmillan

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• No me preocupaba lo que un hombre o una mujer creyeran personalmente, pero la religión oficial de la nación debía ser practicada externamente por todos sus ciudadanos. Una religión era una declaración política. Ser calvinista, papista, presbiteriano o anglicano indicaba la filosofía de una persona respecto a la educación, los impuestos, la ayuda a los pobres y otros asuntos seculares. La nación necesitaba una posición aceptada en estas cuestiones. De ahí las multas por no ajustarse externamente a la iglesia nacional.

  Margaret George

  Philosophy, Men, Worry

  Margaret George (2012). “Elizabeth I”, p.318, Pan Macmillan

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• Defeat I can endure with cheerfulness, my lady. But betrayal is like taking the wind from my sails, or the earth from beneath my feet. It chills my spirits like a rainy day, and all I can do is draw the curtains and cry into my pillow.

  Margaret George

  Betrayal, Rainy Day, Wind

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• We are more than our bodies, it is true; but we cannot be divorced from them. They are us, and the only way in which we can see one another. Perhaps the gods are above this, but in their mercy, they have given us the guise of bodies.

  Margaret George

  Body, Way, Mercy

  Margaret George (2010). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra: A Novel”, p.751, Macmillan

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• Lo que para una persona es una diversión, para otra puede ser una prueba suprema.

  Margaret George

  May, Tests, Diversion

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.37, Pan Macmillan

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• Ahora sentía la urgencia largamente olvidada de hacer el amor, cuando parece que los seres humanos se van, para ser sustituidos por bestias hambrientas que buscan su comida. Desaparecen los seres civilizados que hablan de modales, viajes y cartas; en su lugar hay dos cuerpos que se esfuerzan por dar a luz a una explosión de placer inhumano seguida de una gran nada flotante. Una explosión de vida seguida de muerte: en esto vivimos, y en esto presagiamos nuestras propias dulces muertes.

  Margaret George

  Sweet, Journey, Self

  Margaret George (2011). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra”, p.262, Pan Macmillan

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• Tumbada en la cama, medio tapada por las mantas, me preguntaba somnolienta por qué había llamado a mi puerta aquella noche de hacía tanto tiempo. Se había convertido en un ritual para nosotros, como para todos los amantes: dónde, cuándo, por qué... recordar... Tengo entendido que incluso los ancianos ensayan su religión privada de cómo amaron por primera vez, el más guardado de los secretos. Y él contestaba, con el sueño empañando sus palabras: "Porque tuve que hacerlo". La pregunta y la respuesta eran siempre las mismas. ¿Por qué? Porque tenía que hacerlo.

  Margaret George

  Mentir, Dormir, Noche

  Margaret George (2010). “The Memoirs of Cleopatra: A Novel”, p.751, Macmillan

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