I think isolation is one of the greatest problems, an ever-growing obstacle to political solidarity.

It could draw from a greater reservoir of freedom. The irony could develop an even greater ease.

Literature that keeps employing new linguistic and formal modes of expression to draft a panorama of society as a whole while at the same time exposing it, tearing the masks from its face - for me that would be deserving of an award.

I cannot stand public attention, I just can't. Of course, if I may I might write something instead

Every day, a piece of music, a short story, or a poem dies because its existence is no longer justified in our time. And things that were once considered immortal have become mortal again, no one knows them anymore. Even though they deserve to survive.

Strictly speaking, there are no holidays for art; art pursues you everywhere, and that's just fine with the artist.

My plays are made up of long monologues, which is similar to prose working with the language