My sister, my mother and I are great friends. We have always valued our immediate family immensely, something we learned from my father.

[Pablo Escobar] always told me that the day he used the phone would be his last day, something I had very clear while I was talking to him.

I am surprised that many people disregard the fact that the end for almost all drug dealers ends up being the cemetery or the jail cell, we do not know of any case where a drug dealer has "retired"

I think it's a myth that one cannot leave any organization once you've entered one.

I would say, and as I have said before, the series [Narcos] does not demonstrate real happenings but rather events that the screenwriters, in their own taste, believe depict the way we lived.

I am convinced that we all have the decision to act on a daily basis.

It's a shame to see drug dealers enter and leave the United States as if nothing in addition to those that purchase weapons and firearms.

It's very difficult to resort to hating [Pablo Escobar] when all he gave you his entire life was love and all the best he ever had.

It's important to learn from the past and people's experiences, not only from my father's [Pablo Escobar] as a drug dealer, but from others that have ended just the way he did.

Yes, of course my father harmed and caused a lot of damage but both stories are true. He did things to help and destroy Colombia, both are true.

In reality, my father [Pablo Escobar ] always interrupted others to be with his family. My father's priority was always the family.

I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings.

She's only a girl. What kind of men are you?''Dead ones?' asked Drith, who yanked the door open and put her sword through Narses' throat.

Okay, so you want your other nipple pierced," she said pulling up a chair and getting her supplies ready. "She wants my other nipple pierced," he replied winking at.

I'm not much of a jokester.

He that burnes most shines most.

Over the trackless past, somewhere, Lie the lost days of our tropic youth, Only regained by faith and prayer, Only recalled by prayer and plaint, Each lost day has its patron saint!

I have the choice to be angry at God for what i don't have, or be thankful for what i do have

God does something to us as well as for us through the cross. He persuades us that He loves us.

If we live out of our memory, we're tied to the past and to that which is finite. When we live out of our imagination, we're tied to that which is infinite.

Narrative is radical, creating us at the very moment it is being created.