I Don't Believe In Charity. I Believe

I'm A Writer Obsessed With Remembering, With Remembering The Past Of America And Above All That Of Latin America, Intimate Land Condemned To Amnesia.

Richness In The World Is A Result Of Other People's Poverty. We Should Begin To Shorten The Abyss Between Haves And Have-nots.

The Human Rainbow Had Been Mutilated By Machismo, Racism, Militarism And A Lot Of Other Isms, Who Have Been Terribly Killing Our Greatness, Our Possible Greatness, Our Possible Beauty.

I Go About The World, Hand Outstretched, And In The Stadiums I Plead: 'a Pretty Move, For The Love Of God.' And When Good Soccer Happens, I Give Thanks For The Miracle And I Don't Give A Damn Which Team Or Country Performs It.

I'm Not Asking You To Describe The Rain Falling The Night The Archangel Arrived; I'm Demanding That You Get Me Wet. Make Up Your Mind, Mr. Writer, And For Once In Your Life Be The Flower That Smells Rather Than The Chronicler Of The Aroma. There's Not Much Pleasure In Writing What You Live. The Challenge Is To Live What You Write.