Living for Sabina meant seeing. Seeing is limited by two borders: strong light, which blinds, and total darkness. Perhaps that was what motivated Sabina's distaste for all extremism. Extremes mean borders beyond which life ends, and a passion for extremism, in art and in politics, is a veiled longing for death.

The greater the ambiguity, the greater the pleasure.

For a novelist, a given historic situation is an anthropologic laboratory in which he explores his basic question: What is human existence?

Even in the game there lurks a lack of freedom; even in a game is a trap for the players.

The first step in liquidating a people is to erase its memory. Destroy its books, its culture, its history. Then have somebody write new books, manufacture a new culture, invent a new history. Before long that nation will begin to forget what it is and what it was... The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.

Before we are forgotten, we will be turned into kitsch. Kitsch is the stopover between being and oblivion.

Culture is perishing in overproduction, in an avalanche of words, in the madness of quantity.