If only Mexico paid their workers a decent wage. 
My friend,' he said, 'no one is more ired of religion than a priest. 
Poverty ennobles no one; it brutalizes common people and makes them hungry and old. 
Words are the only bread we can really share. 
Laughter is a virus that infects you with humanity. 
On that long westward morning, all Mexicans still dreamed the same dream. They dreamed of being Mexican. There was no greater mystery. 
Life shifting, as life does 
Death is alive, they whispered. Death lives inside life, as bones dance within the body. Yesterday is within today. Yesterday never dies. 
They breathed. They felt their lungs fill the sky, and they let the dark clouds inside them flow out. Then they connected to the earth. 
The world was more than a place. Life was more than an event. It was all one thing, and that thing was: story. 
If you were born to be a nail, you had to be hammered. 