We live in a world where the funeral matters more than the dead, the wedding more than love and the physical rather than the intellect. We live in th… - Eduardo Galeano

Open Veins’ tried to be a book of political economy, but I didn’t yet have the necessary training or preparation

Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that, one magical day, good luck will suddenly rain down on them - will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn't rain down, yesterday, today, tomorrow or ever. Good luck doesn't even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day on their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms. The nobodies: nobody's children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no-ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.

Scientists say that human beings are made of atoms, but a little bird told me that we are also made of stories.