Without Hope We Are Lost.

I Never Wanted Children, Maybe I'm Afraid Of Responsibility.

We Suffer From An Incurable Malady: Hope.

Poetry And Beauty Are Always Making Peace. When You Read Something Beautiful You Find Coexistence; It Breaks Walls Down.

Where Can I Free Myself Of The Homeland In My Body?

We Are Captives, Even If Our Wheat Grows Over The Fences/ And Swallows Rise From Our Broken Chains./ We Are Captives Of What We Love, What We Desire, And What We Are.