If you want to know what love is, have a child. If you want to know what pain is, bury him. Giannina Braschi More Quotes by Giannina Braschi More Quotes From Giannina Braschi What is liberty? The measure of dignity. Giannina Braschi dignityliberty I have nothing against the smell of rot but something against what hides the smell of rot in the United States of America. Giannina Braschi smellunited-statesamerica Marketers keep inventing desires, necessities for you and for me. I need this. I need that. I need. I need. It's the need of a smoking fit. If you don't smoke that cigarette now, you'll die - when in reality you die because you succumb to the rage and rattle of the needy greed that keeps you busy needing more and more things. Is this the American Dream - the greedy need? Giannina Braschi greeddreamreality Nativity is the enemy of prophecy. Giannina Braschi nativityprophecyenemy It's true that things are beautiful when they work. Art is function. Giannina Braschi functionbeautifulart Poetry must find ways of breaking distance.... all languages are dialects that are made to break new grounds. Giannina Braschi distancepoetryway I love hiccups and I love sneezes and I love blinks and I love belches and I love gluttons. I love hair. I love bears. For me, the round. For me, the world. Giannina Braschi hairlove-islife A baby is expected. A trip is expected. News is expected. Forgetfulness is expected. An invitation is expected. Hope is expected. But memories are not expected. They just come. Giannina Braschi newsbabymemories Only what is fated to die is capable of living. Only what dies lives. Giannina Braschi capabledies Banks are the temples of America. This is a holy war. Our economy is our religion. Giannina Braschi templeswaramerica Metaphors and Similes are the beginning of the democratic system of envy. Giannina Braschi envydemocraticmetaphor Questions don't change the truth. But they give it motion. Giannina Braschi dont-changetruthgiving Ambulances always come with clouds of smoke. And then they disappear in a whistle. But what they bring is fear. Not freedom. Feardom is what they bring. And they bring fire and smoke. Oh, my nerves are bad tonight, yes, bad. I fear freedom. I, above all, fear the freedom that is above all feardom. Giannina Braschi freedomfireclouds
