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

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

Some people speak and sing and walk and sit and sleep and silence their homesickness, for a long time, and to no avail. Some say that over time homesickness loses its specific content, that it starts to smolder and only then becomes all-consuming, because it’s no longer focused on a concrete home. I am one of the people who say that.

I wanted to get out of our thimble of a town, where every stone had eyes.

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

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.

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