Without hope we are lost.

I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood So that I could break the rule I learnt all the words and broke them up To make a single word: Homeland.

If the Olive Trees knew the hands that planted them, Their Oil would become Tears.

My love, I fear the silence of your hands.

Standing here, staying here, permanent here, eternal here, and we have one goal, one, one: to be.

I want to find a language that transforms language itself into steel for the spirit--a language to use against these sparkling insects, these jets.

For the Arabs in Israel there is always a tension between nationality and identity.