The furniture and trappings in the apartment are all in a state of flux - here today, gone tomorrow. Nothing is anchored to its place, not even the coffee-pot, which floats off and returns, on the tide of the signora's marine nature.

... in America ... children are instructed in the virtues of the system they live under, as though history had achieved a happy ending in American civics.

On the wall of our life together hung a gun waiting to be fired in the final act.

In violence, we forget who we are

The exile is a singular, whereas refugees tend to be thought of in the mass ... What is implied in these nuances of social standing is the respect we pay to choice. The exile appears to have made a decision, while the refugee is the very image of helplessness.

Life for the European is a career; for the American it is a hazard.

We all live in suspense, from day to day, from hour to hour; in other words, we are the hero of our own story.