My flesh was burning where the skin was scraped off my knees, and I was afraid that I couldn't be alive anymore with so much pain, and at the same time I knew I was alive because it hurt. I was afraid that death would find its way into me through this open knee and I quickly covered my knee with my hands.

Women always need other women to lean on. They become friends in order to hate each other better. The more they hate each other, the more inseparable they become.

In this county, we had to walk, eat, sleep and love in fear.

Once upon a time they had some bad luck, and they blame everything on that.

I have packed myself into silence so deeply and for so long that I can never unpack myself using words. When I speak, I only pack myself a little differently.

What can't be said can be written. Because writing is a silent act, a labor from the head to the hand.

In Romanian society, I am not particularly well-liked. I don't often receive invitations.