In Abortion, The Person Who Is Massacred,

The Soul Is Often In The Surface, And The Importance Of 'depth' Is Overestimated.

The Struggle Of Literature Is In Fact A Struggle To Escape From The Confines Of Language; It Stretches Out From The Utmost Limits Of What Can Be Said; What Stirs Literature Is The Call And Attraction Of What Is Not In The Dictionary.

The Inferno Of The Living Is Not Something That Will Be; If There Is One, It Is What Is Already Here, The Inferno Where We Live Every Day, That We Form By Being Together. There Are Two Ways To Escape Suffering It. The First Is Easy For Many: Accept The Inferno And Become Such A Part Of It That You Can No Longer See It. The Second Is Risky And Demands Constant Vigilance And Apprehension: Seek And Learn To Recognize Who And What, In The Midst Of Inferno, Are Not Inferno, Then Make Them Endure, Give Them Space.

The Ideal Place For Me Is The One In Which It Is Most Natural To Live As A Foreigner.

Who Are We, Who Is Each One Of Us, If Not A Combinatoria Of Experiences, Information, Books We Have Read, Things Imagined?