“I know Mischa, but you know how the politburo runs. If I say one word of this in there, I'll be out of my job the next day.' Remember, Gorbachev only became general secretary after he had kept his mouth shut under three predecessors.”

“I told her I loved the howling sound of her harmonica. That seemed to be the limit of my courage that night, and even those spoken words had to struggle their way out of my mouth. It's all very well for words to build bridges, but sometimes I think it's a matter of knowing when to do it. Knowing when the time's right.”

“What a beautiful town!”I shouted out.Oh, but what a terrifying view..You know I wrestled with my bruised hoursJust to lie there next to you.”

“God. Twice I speak it. I say His name in a futile attempt to understand. "But it's not your job to understand." That's me who answers. God never says anything. You think you're the only one he never answers? "Your job is to..." And I stop listening to me, because to put it bluntly, I tire me.”

“My friends are under strict instruction that the moment I die, my heart should be taken out of my chest and thrown into the sea. My body should be buried in a still-undisclosed location, but only they will know it. Everybody said that I was going to die when I was 27, but now I’m 28. I fell out of a carriage when I was 11, and I almost died, so I’ve jumped the queue. I’m going to be alive until I’m 100—that’s my plan.”

“...why don't you take a picture of yourself next to a fucking job application? How about that?”

“For most of the journey, he made his way through the book,trying never to look up.The words lolled in his mouth as he read them.Strangely, as he turned the pages and progressed through the chapters, it was only two words he ever tasted."Mein Kampf." My struggle-The title, over and over again, as the train prattled on, from one German town to the next."Mein Kampf."Of all the things to save him.”