It was not an adventure; it was my life.

God has pity on kindergarten children

Here (Jerusalem), tears do not weaken the eyes, they only polish and shine the hardness of faces like stone.

I think the end is endless. It's either a big black hole or a big white light or both together. But it's totally meaningless, because even if someone would explain it, I wouldn't understand it.

There are two languages: one as things seem to us and the other of knowledge.

A flock of sheep near the airport or a high voltage generator beside the orchard: these combinations open up my life like a wound, but they also heal it. That's why my feelings always come in twos.

It was not an adventure; it was my life.