Artists are those who can evade the verbose.

If you want to talk about something new, you have to make up a new kind of language.

What if I’ve forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?...the thought fills me with an almost unbearable sorrow.

Never trust a man who carries a handkerchief, I always say. One of many prejudicial rules of thumb.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky, no wind, and everything was quiet around us - all we could hear were birds chirping in the woods. The war seemed like something in a faraway land that had nothing to do with us. We sang songs as we hiked up the hill, sometimes imitating the birds we heard. Except for the fact that the war was still going on, it was a perfect morning.

At times like this, adults need a drink

In a place far away from anyone or anywhere, I drifted off for a moment.