It's strange how things happen, Mauricio Silva, known as the Eye, always tried to escape from violence even at the risk of being considered a coward, but the violence, the real violence, can't be escaped, at least not by us, born in Latin America in the 1950s, those of us who were around twenty years old when Salvador Allende died.

Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.

The secret story is the one we'll never know, although we're living it from day to day, thinking we're alive, thinking we've got it all under control and the stuff we overlook doesn't matter.

The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.

When people read his books they have an uncontrollable desire to hang the author in the town square. I can’t think of a higher honor for a writer.

You have to know how to look even if you don't know what you're looking for.

In the current socio-political climate, he said to himself, committing suicide is absurd and redundant. Better to become an undercover poet.