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Déja me que te cuente — Vol IV

By Ana María González by Ana María González at https://www.kite.pub/anthologies/dejame-que-te-cuente-vol4/

Déja me que te cuente — Vol IV

Déja me que te cuente — Vol IV Book Front Cover - ISBN 9781610120333

Anthology of accounts of professionals who came to the United States as immigrants.

“Eso de crecer en la frontera puede brindar un sentido alterno, un ir y venir, una penetración de límites, el cruce de un puente, las metáforas son bastantes y dependiendo de la condición en la que la persona se vea insertada, la frontera entre México y Estados Unidos adquiere múltiples significados y consecuentemente, una infinidad de recuerdos.”

— Édgar Cota Torres, México

“I could have finished my days living happily ever after in my dear homeland, but fate had another plan for me. On one of the summers in England, I fell in love with an American soldier and after several years of dating I ended up coming to the USA. It was a time of discovery of myself as a person, of another culture and of a new profession. That is how the love triangle began.”

— María José Goñiza, España

“Nuestro norte es el sur” dijo Torres García. Definitivamente todo depende del ángulo con el cual miramos la realidad. ¿Quién puede afirmar que vivimos en “el fin del mundo”?

— Beatriz Alem de Walker, Uruguay

“We lived in an adobe house with no electricity or running water in a remote mountainous area, out in the middle of nowhere, a thirty minute walk from the nearest small town. We were poor but somehow being poor as we grew up was not a strange or ugly situation. It was something we accepted just as we accepted the two seasons we have in Honduras. It was a happy childhood.”

— Marco Tulio Cedillo, Honduras

Dejame Que Te Cuente Vol IV
Paperback: 400 pages
Published: July 4 2015
Language: English/Spanish
ISBN-13: 978-161012-0395
Product Dimensions: 6 x 0.9 x 9 inches
Shipping Weight: 1.3 pounds

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Ana María González

Rêves. Étranges rêves. Dérouteurs de la vie à laquelle on s’accroche, inventeurs de l’impossible. Ils m’échappent, me reviennent, me collent à la peau, certains jours. Fragments de ma mémoire enfouie, entre alcool, morphine et temps qui passé, entre mille pensées concrètes, je vous reconnais, vous faites partie de moi au plus profond.

— Frida Kahlo

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