Noémi Szécsi

“Where is Grandpa?" I asked Grandma, who was gazing into the distance with the expression of a well-fed cobra on her face."Now that I have chopped him up and passed him through the electric meat-grinder at maximum, he is no longer oppressed by the burden of being.”

“I really don't crave literary immortality - I will achieve life through my bloodline as a vampire. All I want is to see my work in print. Is that so much to ask?”

“I knew you'd be pleased. But I beg of you: don't write things like 'The fox was orally fixated all afternoon.' There are so many foreign words in your stories, they'd make a four or five-year-old drop stone dead. Hungarian, understood?”

“Unless you start sucking blood soon, there'll be hell to pay. It's in your blood, as it were, but what would really motivate you is if you died. Until then you won't care how the days pass." "I do want to die, Grandma, but not just yet.”