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.

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

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

I do not fight against men, but against the system that is sexist.

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.

Vice is basically the love of failure.

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