I don’t like the gringos at all. They are very boring and all have faces like unbaked rolls.

To feel the anguish of waiting for the next moment and of taking part in the complex current (of affairs) not knowing that we are headed toward ourselves, through millions of stone beings - of bird beings - of star beings - of microbe beings - of fountain beings toward ourselves.

Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.

Everyone's opinions about things change over time. Nothing is constant. Everything changes. And to hold onto some dogged idea forever is a little rigid and maybe naive.

My blood is a miracle that, from my veins, crosses the air in my heart into yours.

There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley, and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.

You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.”