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.

So firm did Nivea's determination become that she wrote in her diary that she would give up marriage in order to devote herself completely to the struggle for women's suffrage. She was not aware that such a sacrifice would not be necessary, and that she would marry a man for love who would back her up in her political goals.

You can't find someone who doesn't want to be found.

What happens in the world affects me. Sometimes, that's part of the writing.

I don't read thrillers, romance or mystery, and I don't read self-help books because I don't believe in shortcuts and loopholes.

Only in romance novels or in thrillers people live outside of a social and political context.

if we don't begin by imagining the perfect society, how shall we create one?