One Hundred Years of Solitude

Aureliano Buendía was
nothing but a faker or an
imbecile. He could not
understand why he had
needed so many words to
explain what he felt in war
because one was enough:
fear. In Melquíades room, on
the other hand, protected by
the supernatural light, by the
sound of the rain, by the
feeling of being invisible, he
found the repose that he had
not had for one single instant