“My heart never feels as connected to life as when I am writing. In writing, I find my freedom, a freedom that is absolute, a freedom I have never found in any other activity. In writing, I find myself and begin to know others. It is in writing that I think of causes and effects, and I search for answers to my questions. And, sometimes, I don’t even search, because sometimes it doesn’t matter, and because I am simply walking along an open and unclear path. It is in writing that I find the perfect way of approaching the beginnings and the endings, the infinity, and the restfulness of death.”

from Memories in Diaspora, Vol. 1: Like Water, Like Glass, Like Christal (p. 343, my translation)