“The memory of my father is wrapped up in white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day of work. Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits out of his hat, he drew love from his small body.”

“A man doesn't have time in his lifeto have time for everything.He doesn't have seasons enough to havea season for every purpose. EcclesiastesWas wrong about that.A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,to laugh and cry with the same eyes,with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,to make love in war and war in love.And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digestwhat history takes years and years to do.A man doesn't have time.When he loses he seeks, when he findshe forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loveshe begins to forget.And his soul is seasoned, his soulis very professional.Only his body remains foreveran amateur. It tries and it misses,gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,drunk and blind in its pleasures and its pains.He will die as figs die in autumn,Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,the leaves growing dry on the ground,the bare branches pointing to the placewhere there's time for everything. ”

“I know a man who photographed the view he saw from the window of the room where he made love and not the face of the woman he loved there.”

“A flock of sheep near the airport or a high voltage generator beside the orchard: these combinations open up my life like a wound, but they also heal it. That's why my feelings always come in twos.”

“Spy (1973)Many years ago,I was sentto spy out the land beyond the age of thirty.And I stayed thereand didn’t go back to my senders,so as not to be madeto tellabout this landand madeto lie.”

“It was not an adventure; it was my life.”

“And I said to myself: That's true, hope needs to belike barbed wire to keep out despair,hope must be a mine field.”