If the past has nothing to say to the present, history may go on sleeping undisturbed in the closet where the system keeps its old disguises.

And one fine day the goddess of the wind kisses the foot of man, that mistreated, scorned foot, and from that kiss the soccer idol is born. He is born in a straw crib in a tin-roofed shack and he enters the world clinging to a ball.

Charity, vertical, humiliates. Solidarity, horizontal, helps.

I am not a historian. I am a writer obsessed with remembering, with remembering the past

Chaplin and Keaton are still the best. They know that there is nothing more serious than laughter, an art demanding infinite work, and that as long as the world revolves, making others laugh is the most splendid of activities.

Most of wars or military coups or invasions are done in the name of democracy against democracy.

Soccer is a feast for the eyes that watch it and a joy for the body that plays it