My mother never made me do anything for my brothers, like serve them. I think that’s an important lesson, especially for the Latino culture, because the women are expected to be the ones that serve and cook and whatever. Not in our family. Everybody was equal.
There is no real teacher who in practice does not believe in the existence of the soul, or in a magic that acts on it through speech.
I was what? – twelve years old – and I was thrown in the cells with these people, so I learned fast.
My dad was very intelligent, had a very strong personality. I was amazed with my father.
I wrote some bad poetry that I published in North African journals, but even as I withdrew into this reading, I also led the life of a kind of young hooligan.
Why is it the philosopher who is expected to be easier and not some scientist who is even more inaccessible?
The lucky thing was that I was Italian; when the other Italians saw me fight back, they came to my defence.
I became the stage for the great argument between Nietzsche and Rousseau. I was the extra ready to take on all the roles.
I respond to mood. I hear some phrase, or pick up a rhythm.
My first three years of high school, I wasn’t that cool.