“I would recognise myself in each of his translations and he would feel betrayed and annoyed whenever I didn't write something the way he would have. A part of me died with him, a part of him lives with me.”

“The Revolution is indeed living thorough the hard times of transition and sacrifice. The Cubans themselves have learned that socialism is built with clenched teeth and that revolution is no evening stroll. But afterall, if the future came on a platter, it would not be of this world.”

“The world,' he revealed, 'is a heap of people, a sea of tiny flames.'Each person shines with his or her own light. No two flames are alike. There are big flames and little flames, flames of every colour. Some peoples flames are so still they don't even flicker in the wind, while others have wild flames that fill the air with sparks. Some foolish flames neither burn nor shed light, but others blaze with life so fiercely that you can't look at them without blinking and if you approach, you shine in fire.”

“Here," an old sugar worker told me, "the people have a great love for martyrs--but only after they're dead. Before, there's nothing but complaints.”

“I have never killed anybody, it is true, but it is because I lacked the courage or the time, not because I lacked the desire”

“Cuba,” he said in his resounding defense plea, “continues to be a producer of raw materials. We exhort sugar to import candy, we export hides to import shoes, we export iron to import plows.”

“Because every single one of us has something to say to the others, something that deserves to be celebrated or forgiven by others”