“Shall I tell you a joke about languages? Abulfaz asked.A joke. Yes, okay.What do you call a Russian who speaks four languages?I don't know.A Zionist. What about a Russian who speaks three languages?I don't know.A spy. And two? ... No? A nationalist. And only one? ... An inter-nationalist.”

“I speak the language of love. That’s right, I speak Russian.”

“You came so that you could learn about your dreams," said the old woman. "And dreams are the language of God. When he speaks in our language, I can interpret what he has said. But if he speaks in the language of the soul, it is only you who can understand.”

“There's an old Russian saying that goes some way or another. I don't know it. I don't speak Russian. But sometimes I think about it and wonder if it's relevant to what I'm going through at the time. Probably not. I mean what do Russian know about hunger, anyway?”

“Half of the time I don't know what they're talking about; their jokes seem to relate to a past that everyone but me has shared. I'm a foreigner in the world and I don't understand the language.”

“Love can be expressed and received in all five languages. However, if you don't speak a person's primary love language, that person will not feel loved, even though you may be speaking the other four. Once you are speaking his or her primary love language fluently, then you can sprinkle in the other four and they will be like icing on the cake.”