“Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss.”

“Reachable, near and not lost, there remained in the midst of the losses this one thing: language. It, the language, remained, not lost, yes, in spite of everything. But it had to pass through its own answerlessness, pass through frightful muting, pass through the thousand darknesses of deathbringing speech. It passed through and gave back no words for that which happened; yet it passed through this happening. Passed through and could come to light again, “enriched” by all this.”

“Secure against the designs of men, secure against the malignity of the Gods, they have accomplished a thing of infinite difficulty; that to them nothing remains even to be wished.”

“Exposing others' preconceptions gives a false sense of security, when one remains blind to one's own.”

“Throughout history, the word "war" has meant one thing to human beings: loss of life. The word "peace" has always meant security and love within a person's soul.”

“Was there a language of loss? Did everyone who suffered speak a different dialect?”