Anything in literature, including memory, is second-hand.

If you live with death threats, you need friends. So you have to risk that they might spy on you.

If only the right person would have to leave, everyone else would be able to stay in the country.

I have always written only for myself - to clarify things, to clarify things with myself, to understand in an inner way what is actually happening.

Anything in literature, including memory, is second-hand.

Writing itself does not know what it looks like while one is doing it, only when it's finished.

Language is so different from life. How am I supposed to fit the one into the other? How can I bring them together?