Music is a wind that blows away the years, memories, and fear, that crouching animal I carry inside me.

My name is Eva, which means 'life,' according to a book of names my mother consulted. I was born in the back room of a shadowy house, and grew up amidst ancient furniture, books in Latin, and human mummies, but none of those things made me melancholy, because I came into the world with a breath of the jungle in my memory.

The names of persons and living creatures demand respect, because when we speak to them we touch their heart and become a part of thier life force.

At my age days dissolve like salt in water; the day's gone and I don't even know what I've done with the hours.

When my daughter Paula died, I was in the deepest pain, and my mother said, "This kind of sorrow is like a long, narrow, dark channel. You have to walk this channel alone and be sure that there is light at the other ending. Just keep walking."

Perhaps we are in this world to search for love, find it and lose it, again and again. With each love, we are born anew, and with each love that ends we collect a new wound. I am covered with proud scars.

Everyone in his place and a place for everyone.