“Nobody reads poetry anymoreSo who the hell are youI see bent over this book?”

“There is a logic [to my reading], but I can't define it. I like reading impulsively. I collect books, I have a lot of them, but most of them I have not read yet. I'll read them when they call me from the shelf.”

“Nobody deserves death, yet everybody gets it.”

“Because sometimes you have no control over life and it keeps you far away from who you love.”

“While customarily splling coffee grounds all over the counter, I spotted a can in the corner whose red label read SADNESS. Was there so much of it they could can it and sell it? A bolt of pain went through my intestines before I realized that it was not SADNESS but SARDINES.”

“What you see is what you see, but that is never everything. Sarajavo is Sarajevo whatever you see or don't see. America is America. The past and future exist without you. And what you don't know about me is still my life. What I don't know about you is still your life. Nothing at all depends on you seeing it or not seeing it. I mean, who are you? You don't have to see or know everything.”

“What is life? This is no life. Who wants this life?The dead leave it to us to struggle in this world. They go elsewhere, wherever it is, and wait for God to sort it all out. But we have to stay here, no matter how hard it is. Nobody can be alone. Life is the life of others. My life, your life, that is nothing.”