It Is Strange How The

It Is Difficult To Understand These People Who Democratically Take Part In Elections And A Referendum, But Are Then Incapable Of Democratically Accepting The Will Of The People.

Consciences Keep Silence More Often Than They Should, That's Why Laws Were Created.

Words Are Like That, They Deceive, They Pile Up, It Seems They Do Not Know Where To Go, And, Suddenly, Because Of Two Or Three Or Four That Suddenly Come Out, Simple In Themselves, A Personal Pronoun, An Adverb, An Adjective, We Have The Excitement Of Seeing Them Coming Irresistibly To The Surface Through The Skin And The Eyes And Upsetting The Composure Of Our Feelings, Sometimes The Nerves That Can Not Bear It Any Longer, They Put Up With A Great Deal, They Put Up With Everything, It Was As If They Were Wearing Armor, We Might Say.

A Tree Weeps When Cut Down, A Dog Howls When Beaten, But A Man Matures When Offended.

I Was Born In A Family Of Landless Peasants, In Azinhaga, A Small Village In The Province Of Ribatejo, On The Right Bank Of The Almonda River, Around A Hundred Kilometres North-east Of Lisbon.