The job of a citizen is to keep his mouth open.

Art is accusation, expression, passion. Art is black charcoal crushing white paper.

The patience of poverty. In rice fields, backs bent forever. Amazing, man outoxens the oxen and still smiles. The mystery of India, say Indologists.

Information networks straddle the world. Nothing remains concealed. But the sheer volume of information dissolves the information. We are unable to take it all in.

I belonged to the generation that grew up under National Socialism, and was blinded and led astray - and allowed itself to be led astray.

When the young woman leans over the sky, about to water the flowers as well as the weeds, her white front splits open until her milk runs.

So I have no grounds to complain; on the contrary, writers should consider the condition of permanent controversiality to be invigorating, part of the risk envolved in choosing the profesión. It is a fact of life that writers have always and with due consideration and great pleasure spit in the soup of the high and mighty. That is what makes the history of literature analogous to the development and refinement of censorship.