The Language Of Mexicans Springs From Abysmal

You, Yesterday, Did The Usual Things, Just As Any Day, You Don't Know If It's Worth Remembering. You Would Prefer To Remember, There Lying In The Half-darkness Of The Bedroom, Not What Has Happened Already But What Is Going To Happen. In Your Half-darkness Your Eyes Would Prefer To Look Ahead, Not Behind, And They Do Not Know How To Foresee The Past.

Religion Is Dogmatic. Politic Is Ideological. Reason Must Be Logical, But Literature Has A Privilege Of Being Equivocal.

I Believe In Books That Do Not Go To A Ready-made Public. I'm Looking For Readers I Would Like To Make. To Win Them, To Create Readers Rather Than To Give Something That Readers Are Expecting. That Would Bore Me To Death.

You Start By Writing To Live. You End By Writing So As Not To Die.

No, It's Not That They're Bad. It's That They're Obliged To Pretend They're Good. They've Been Brought Up To Deceive And Be Cunning, To Protect Themselves From Our Society. I Don't Want To Be Like That.