“In a world that has no heaven the earth becomes an abyss.And the poem is one of its consolation prizes.One of the qualities of the winds, north or south”

“The poem is in my hands, and can run stories through her hands.”

“The stars had only one task: they taught me how to read.They taught me I had a language in heavenand another language on earth.”

“The poem is neither here nor there, and with a girl's breastit can illuminate the nights.With the glow of an apple it fills two bodies with lightand with a gardenia's breath it can revive a homeland!”

“Far away, our dreams have nothing to do with what we do. The wind carries the night, and passes on, aimless.”

“No one has arrived. Leave me thereas you would leave a myth with any person who sees youuntil he cries and rushes into himself, afraid of happiness.”

“A poem exists only in the relation between poet and reader. And I'm in need of my readers, except that they never cease to write me as they would wish, turning their reading into another writing that almost rubs out my features. I don't know why my poetry has to be killed on the altar of misunderstanding or the fallacy of ready-made intent. I am not solely a citizen of Palestine, though I am proud of this affiliation and ready to sacrifice my life in defending the radiance of the Palestinian fact, but I also want to take up the history of my people and their struggle from an aesthetic angle that differs from the prevalent and repeatable meanings readily available from an unmediated political reading.”