To read Lucia St. Clair Robson is to learn while being thoroughly entertained. Last Train from Cuernavaca puts us through the tragic violence and political treachery of the Mexican Revolution and its consequences so intimately that we feel hunger, lust, thirst, grief, and saddle sores, and admire anew the awesome durability and courage of the people of Mexico-- especially the women.

A closed mouth gathers no foot.

We pick bygone time up by the handfuls and, like clay, see if it feels right and then form it into stories about the past.

To read Lucia St. Clair Robson is to learn while being thoroughly entertained. Last Train from Cuernavaca puts us through the tragic violence and political treachery of the Mexican Revolution and its consequences so intimately that we feel hunger, lust, thirst, grief, and saddle sores, and admire anew the awesome durability and courage of the people of Mexico-- especially the women.

Aphorism, n.: A concise, clever statement you don’t think of until too late.

For every time we regret keeping still, there are about ten times we regret speaking up.

If there is a rumor in the air about you, you'd better treat it as you would a wasp: either ignore it or kill it with the first blow. Anything else will just stir it up.