Poetry is how I feed the soul, and it's how I fire the furnace of writing. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
I'm a theological writer mistaken for a political writer. My theme is grace versus karma. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
People think of me as a political writer, but I don't think of myself that way. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
A great Chicano forebear of mine in writing is Rolando Hinojosa-Smith. He was writing good border mysteries for Chicano readers back in… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
Writing went from being a calling to being a job. Business ruined things. It became like making sausages in a sausage factory. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
Borders are liminal spaces. Anyone worthy of the title of 'writer' is a border writer. We all are border people. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
Many of us writers tour like a literary Bachman Turner Overdrive. We ain't pretty, but we're on the road. Many of us… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
“I can't believe how many students don't read. They want to be writers, but they haven't read anything at all. They have… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
I once made the mistake of writing a story with David Corbett. The man smoked me. He can delineate the character and… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
“Even if, at the moment, you can't sit down and do the gruntwork of stringing verbs and nouns together, you are writing.… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
I used to approach writing like a football game. If I went out there and aggressively saw more, I'd know more, and… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
“Aztlán (“The Place of the Reeds”) was the traditional home of the Aztecs, a possibly mythical motherland from which the tribe ventured forth on… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
With a name like Luis Alberto Urrea, it's political no matter what I do. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
During grade school, we moved to a white, working-class suburb in San Diego, and there were no Mexicans. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
I've been told not to tour down in Mexico. I am too well-known now. The kidnappers may think that my publisher will pay a… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
“Braulio rises and extends his hands, making peace. " No hay pedo ," he says, the absurd lower-class slang for "There's no trouble here,"… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
“This is how Heaven works. They're practical. We are always looking for rays of light. For lightning bolts or burning bushes. But God is… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
We want to ascribe a kind of tragic grimness to people, but people are funny. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
I came to believe the green fuse that drives spring and summer through the world is essentially a literary energy. That the world was… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
“He couldn't believe she was real. She was like some dream, some story old men told youngsters. She made a fool out of him… — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
The world was more than a place. Life was more than an event. It was all one thing, and that thing was: story. — Luis Alberto Urrea Copy Share Image
