“I remembered all my years in the Philippines, my father fighting for his inherited land, my mother selling boggoong to the impoverished peasants. I remembered all my brothers and their bitter fight for a place in the sun, their tragic… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“I lived in a big bunkhouse of thirty farm workers with Leroy, who was a stranger to me in many ways because he was… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“We ...recognize the forces which have been trying to falsify American history—the forces which drive away many Americans to a corner of compromise with… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
I came to know that in many ways it was a crime to be Filipino in California .... I feel like a criminal running… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“We do not take democracy for granted. We feel it grow in our working together—many millions of us working toward a common purpose. If… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“Why was America so kind and yet so cruel? Was there no way to simplifying things in this continent so that suffering would be… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“You ...see us ...and you think you know us, but our outward guise is more deceptive than our history.” — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“We march on, though sometimes strange moods fill our children. Our march toward security and peace is the march of freedom—the freedom that we… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“I remembered all my years in the Philippines, my father fighting for his inherited land, my mother selling boggoong to the impoverished peasants. I… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
Now culture being a social product, I firmly believe that any work of art should have a social function to beautify, to glorify, to… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
Men who had poetry in their soul come silently into the world and live quietly down the years, and yet when they are gone… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
“We have been marching for the last one hundred and fifty years. We sacrifice our individual liberties, and sometimes we fail and suffer. Sometimes… — Carlos Bulosan Copy Share Image
