My dad loved using the word “ain’t.” He said it was the best damn slang word invented by the Americans. - Victor Villaseñor

So, keep your powder dry and dig in for a long, fruitful life of being a writer, that storyteller around the campfire of your people and your generation. Your trade is as old as time, and your main job is to uplift the human heart so that then we can go on with dignity and fair play. That’s it

First of all,” said Dr. Nacozi to me, “I want you to know that I realize you have a brilliant mind.” “Me?” I said, feeling shocked. “Yes, you,” he said. “And maybe you haven’t done that well in school in the past, but this is all about to change very rapidly for you, because the further you go in university life, the more apt you are to find minds like your own. I never had many friends until I got into graduate school. Before that … well, I always felt confused and lost,” he said, laughing. “And not very capable with the girls and in my social life, either.

"Look at me closely, amigo," said my dad. "Here is a hundred-dollar bill just to start with. Thirty dollars of this is for you to put in your own pocket right now. Capiche?" The bartender's whole attitude changed. Suddenly he wasn't tired anymore. "Yes, mi general, entiendo!" he said. "Good, and give another twenty to the chef in back and ten to the dishwasher. That leaves forty for my son and me to drink and eat a little something." "But of course!" said the barkeeper. "The whole place is open for you! Which tequila would you like?" he added anxiously. "Herradura, and a couple of Modelo cervezas." "I like Dos Equis," I said. "The dark one." "Okay," said my dad, "one Modelo and one dark Dos Equis." The bartender was flying, moving, truly enjoying the whole show. My dad winked at me. "Like I always say, to tip after the meal is stupid. Tip first and big, and the whole world changes."