Mexican Quotes

“Me daba vergüenza estar así por un hombre, ser tan infeliz y volverme dichosa sin que dependiera para nada de mí”
― Ángeles Mastretta, Arráncame la vida

“No existe ningún recuerdo por intenso que sea que no se apague...”
― Juan Rulfo, Pedro Páramo

“My name is Skippito Friskito. (clap-clap)
I fear not a single bandito. (clap-clap)
My manners are mellow,
I'm sweet like the Jell-o,
I get the job done, yes indeed-o. (clap-clap)”
― Judy Schachner, Skippyjon Jones

“Let me tell you, Alex. He's a crook. He's based here in Miami. He's a nasty piece of work."
"He's mexican" Troy added.”
― Anthony Horowitz, Skeleton Key

“Your life depends on a random stranger who could kill you, will probably disrespect you, and will most likely pay you much less than you deserve. But even those prospects are better than the ones you used to have. This is the life of los jornaleros – the day laborers.”
― Gustavo Arellano, Ask a Mexican

“In her spare time, she looked to books or the stars for company.”
― Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Gods of Jade and Shadow

“With my white friends, I’m always half Mexican. They never say I’m half Irish. Never say I’m half white. Like I’m tainted halfway from the standard. It’s like when I was a kid and I thought vanilla ice cream meant no flavor, like it was the base of all of the flavors. But vanilla is a bean. Like chocolate is a bean. Like cinnamon is a root. All roots and beans. All flavors. There is no base. No ice cream without a flavor.”
― Bill Konigsberg, The Music of What Happens

“Luz cleared her throat. “I’ve always said, ‘Getting a foothold in a country that doesn’t want you is daunting, but determination and good manners can go a long way.’ So, be careful. Gays are outsiders too . . . just like us.”
Luz smiled. “But, life in the shadows isn’t so bad.”
“You don’t have a Green Card?” Zoe asked.
“No. And I’m not attracted to men. But I’ll never be Mexican again. I’m a child of free enterprise, wandering through an international marketplace. I may only work in a nail salon, but at least I’m part of America’s circus of self-invention.”
― Michael Benzehabe

“Lila smiles, reaches into the cloth covering whatever goodies are in the basket, and pulls out a concha. The top of the pastry is a swirl of colors- deep purple, inky blue, pink, green, gold. It reminds me of the galaxy, and I stare for a moment, mesmerized, before I take it from her.
My mouth begins to water. "This smells incredible," I say. "What do I owe you?"
"It's on the house," she says, already turning away. "Enjoy."
I want to argue, but the urge to bite into the pastry is nearly irresistible now. I've never had Mexican pastries before. But first... I pick up my phone from the bench and take a picture of the gorgeous creation. Then, putting it back down, I take a big bite and close my eyes. My mouth explodes with flavors and sensations- sweet, yeasty, warm. In another three bites, I've eaten the entire four-inch ball of dough and am licking my fingers.”
― Sandhya Menon, Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

“The dream I had was on a certain night. And in the dream the traveler appeared. What night was this? In the life of the traveler when was it that he came to spend the night in that rocky posada? He slept and events took place which I will tell you of, but when was this? You can see the problem. Let us say that the events which took place were a dream of this man whose own reality remains conjectural. How assess the world of that conjectural mind? And what with him is sleep and what is waking? How comes he to own the a world at night at all? Things need a ground to stand upon. As every soul requires a body. A dream within a dream makes other claims than what a man might suppose.”
― Cormac McCarthy

“La verdad es que en México hay un país secreto, que no se anuncia, que sólo la tradición conoce y reconoce. Allí se gestan, y se continúan, la cocina, las leyendas, las memorias, los diálogos, todo lo que desaparece, evaporado, apenas lo proclama la luz neón.”
― Carlos Fuentes, Diana: The Goddess Who Hunts Alone

“I am an undocumented transfer student to UCLA. This university has always been my dream, but being here has been on of the hardest experiences of my life. I do not receive financial aid, and I do not meet any of the requirements to receive any kind of scholarship because I do not have a Social Securty number.”
― Eileen Truax, Dreamers: An Immigrant Generation's Fight for Their American Dream

“Saturday is birthday cake day.
During the week, the panadería is all strong coffee and pan dulce. But on weekends, it's sprinkle cookies and pink cake. By ten or eleven this morning, we'll get the first rush of mothers picking up yellow boxes in between buying balloons and paper streamers.
In the back kitchen, my father hums along with the radio as he shapes the pastry rounds of ojos de buey, the centers giving off the smell of orange and coconut. It may be so early the birds haven't even started up yet, but with enough of my mother's coffee and Mariachi Los Camperos, my father is as awake as if it were afternoon.
While he fills the bakery cases, my mother does the delicate work of hollowing out the piñata cakes, and when her back is turned, I rake my fingers through the sprinkle canisters. During open hours, most of my work is filling bakery boxes and ringing up customers (when it's busy) or washing dishes and windexing the glass cases (when it's not). But on birthday cake days, we're busy enough that I get to slide sheet cakes from the oven and cover them in pink frosting and tiny round nonpareils, like they're giant circus-animal cookies. I get to press hundreds-and-thousands into the galletas de grajea, the round, rainbow-sprinkle-covered cookies that were my favorite when I was five.
My mother finishes hollowing two cake halves, fills them with candy- green, yellow, and pink this time- and puts them back together. Her piñatas are half our Saturday cake orders, both birthday girls and grandfathers delighting at the moment of seeing M&M's or gummy worms spill out. She covers them with sugar-paste ruffles or coconut to look like the tiny paper flags on a piñata, or frosting and a million rainbow sprinkles.”
― Anna-Marie McLemore, Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

“My father doesn't ask why I'm in the back after the first morning rush, making green and purple sugar paste for pan dulce. He's working on a batch of unicorn conchas, his latest stroke of genius, pan dulce covered with shells of pink, purple, and blue sugar that sell out every weekend.”
― Anna-Marie McLemore, Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

“If you've got a Mexican last name, you've got a strike against you.”
― Tracy Kidder, The Road to Yuba City: A Journey into the Juan Corona Murders

“Today you.... tomorrow me.”
― Random Mexican https www.reddit.com r AskReddit comments elal2 have_you_ever_picked_up_a_hitchhiker

“Today you.... tomorrow me.”
― Random Mexican to redditor Rhoner

“Take out all but one bullet and it was Russian Roulette. In Mexican Roulette, as he'd heard it defined, you took out only one. In Drunk Mexican Roulette you didn't take out any.”
― James Carlos Blake

“Que el anarquismo es una maravillosa idea de libertad, no tener a nadie encima de uno. Ningún poder superior, ninguna cadena. No hay idea más maravillosa. No hay idea menos practicable. Pero hay que mantener la utopía de las ideas. Si no, nos convertimos en bestias. También la vida práctica es un hoyo negro que los lleva a la muerte. La revolución, la anarquía, la libertad son los premios del pensamiento. No tienen más que un trono, nuestra cabeza.”
― Carlos Fuentes, Diana: The Goddess Who Hunts Alone

“The Beetle’s body, whether it be a ’49 split or a ’73 Jeans Bug, or an ‘03 Mexican, was originally conceived in the mid 1930’s. This is evident in it’s body styling which aside from it’s rear engine layout and absence of front radiator (or radiator!) grille, is very similar to other cars of the same period. Believe it or not, in those days streamlining was a hot new concept, kind of like how wireless networking is today with computing.
The only problem was, in the beginning they didn’t seem to realize that streamlining ought to be applied sideways as well as longitudinally!”
― Christina Engela, Bugspray

“Triqui and other Latin American native languages are commonly referred to as dialects. (...) Instead of understanding them as languages that were spoken in the area long before the Spanish conquest, calling them dialects implies that they developed as derivatives of the real language, Spanish. This misinterpretation supports the prevalent attitude that indigenous Mexicans are less important, even less Mexican , than mestizo Mexicans”
― Seth Holmes, Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies: Migrant Farmworkers in the United States

“Oh, the enchiladas are not really stuffed with chocolate, which would be really weird. What I do is dip tortillas in a hot chile sauce flavored with Mexican chocolate, then stuff them with Jack cheese and onions and bake them with more of the sauce. It's an authentic Mexican dish, and the flavor's not to be believed.”
― James Villas, Hungry for Happiness

“Francis drove up a narrow road that climbed deeper into the mountains, the air growing rawer, the mist intensifying. She rubber her hands together.”
― Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic

“I went to the butcher and the farm stands yesterday. I brined my chicken for four hours, set the alarm, and then did a buttermilk soak for another four. The chicken will be spectacular. I drove out to this liquor store off I-35 that I know sells the real Cokes- in beautiful glass bottles from Mexico. Purists believe Mexican Coke is far better because they use refined cane sugar, not high-fructose corn syrup. I am one of these purists. I also purchase Coke in a can and the regular American Coke, which is in one of those beautiful light green glass bottles that's Americana personified.”
― Liza Palmer, Nowhere But Home

“Assorted types of churros offered with Mexican hot chocolate, café con leche, and/or a ramekin of cajeta

I made churros all day yesterday and I've set them on different plates in front of Fawn, Dee, and Merry Carole the next morning at the salon. I've used different types of sugar and fried them at different temperatures and for different amounts of time. For dipping, I've made a batch of café con leche and Mexican hot chocolate made with cinnamon (canela) and just a pinch of cayenne pepper. I also offer a small ramekin of cajeta, which is a caramelly concoction made from goat's milk that I may have become obsessed with lately.”
― Liza Palmer, Nowhere But Home

“In the case of the Chicanx population, the US conquest and annexation of Mexican territory (a geographical area extending from Texas to California) following the Mexican American War (1846-1848) created a situation in which people of Mexican ancestry became subject to White domination...It was the general feeling among White settlers that they were superior to Mexicans...The question of how Mexicans should be classified racially was decided in 1897 by Texas courts, which ruled that Mexican Americans were not White. In California, they were classified as 'Caucasian' until 1930, when the state attorney general decided they should be categorized as 'Indians,' though 'not considered "the original American Indians of the US"'.”
― Beverly Daniel Tatum, Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?

“The Reverent Theodore Parker, Unitarian minister in Boston, combined eloquent criticism of the war with contempt for the Mexican people, whom he called 'a wretched people; wretched in their origin, history, and character,' who must eventually give way as the Indians did. Yes, the United States should expand...by 'the steady advance of a superior race, with superior ideas and a better civilization...by being better than Mexico, wiser, humaner, more free and manly'.
...The racism for Parker was widespread. Congressmen Delano of Ohio...opposed the war because he was afraid of Americans mingling with an inferior people who 'embrace all shades of color....a sad compound of Spanish, English, Indian, and negro bloods...and resulting, it is said, in the production of a slothful, ignorant race of beings'.”
― Howard Zinn, A People's History of the United States

“Noemi wondered if High Place had robbed her of her illusions, or if they were meant to be shattered all along. Marriage could hardly be like the passionate romances one read about in books. It seemed to her, in fact, a rotten deal. Men would be solicitous and well behaved when they courted a woman, asking her out to parties and sending her flowers, but once they married. the flowers wilted. You didn't have married men posting love letters to their wives. That's why Noemí tended to cycle through admirers. She worried a man would be briefly impressed with her luster, only to lose interest later on. There was also the excitement of the chase, the delight that flew through her veins when she knew a suitor was bewitched with her. Besides, boys her age were dull, always talking about the parties they had been to the previous week or the one they were planning to go to the week after. Easy, shallow men. Yet the thought of anyone more substantial made her nervous, for she was trapped between competing de sires, a desire for a more meaningful connection and the desire to never change. She wished for eternal youth and endless merriment.”
― Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Mexican Gothic

“Is this a Mexican standoff? Actually, no. If my movie knowledge serves me, a Mexican standoff requires three people—one of whom must be Salma Hayek.”
― Trixie Silvertale, Fries and Alibis

“ATOLE

5 cups water
1/2 cup masa
2 cinnamon sticks
5 tablespoons piloncillo
1 tablespoon vanilla extract”
― Adi Alsaid, North of Happy