Federico Garcia Lorca

As I have not worried to be born, I do not worry to die.

In Spain, the dead are more alive than the dead of any other country in the world.

With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.

Well, I actually wrote her a letter a couple of days ago congratulating her. The tone I tried to convey in the letter is, look, you are a part of a great American historical process.

A myth is a lie that conceals or reveals a truth. But if it reveals even a strand of history or truth, that's what gets my adrenaline going.

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.