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“I had come to Yugoslavia to see what history meant in flesh and blood.”
― Rebecca West, Black Lamb and Grey Falcon

“[I]t is the powerful who write the laws of the world-- and the powerful who ignore these laws when expediency dictates.”
― Michael Parenti, To Kill a Nation: The Attack on Yugoslavia

“Cruelty is absolutely foreign to their natures.Some people once talked of setting up a branch of the " Prevention of Cruelty to Animals" in Serbia, and were asked in astonishment what work they supposed they would find to do ; who ever heard of a Serbian being cruel to child or animal?”
― Flora Sandes, An English Woman-Sergeant in the Serbian Army

“The people were divided into the persecuted and those who persecuted them. That wile beast, which lives in man and does not dare to show itself until the barriers of law and custom have been removed, was now set free. The signal was given, the barriers were down. As has so often happened in the history of man, permission was tacitly granted for acts of violence and plunder, even for murder, if they were carried out in the name of higher interests, according to established rules, and against a limited number of men of a particular type and belief....In a few minutes the business quarter, based on centuries of tradition, was wiped out. It is true that there had always been concealed enmities and jealousies and religious intolerance, coarseness and cruelty, but there had also been courage and fellowship and a feeling for measure and order, which restrained all these instincts within the limits of the supportable and, in the end, calmed them down and submitted them to the general interest of life in common. Men who had been leaders in the commercial quarter for forty years vanished overnight as if they had all died suddenly, together with the habits, customs and institutions which they represented.

p. 11”
― Peter Maass, Love Thy Neighbor: A Story of War

“Bosnia's war had its visual hallmarks. Parks that were turned into cemeteries, refugee families piled onto horse-drawn carts, stop-or-die checkpoints with mines across the road. The most hideous hallmark of all was the blackened patch of ground in the center of town. It always meant the same thing, a destroyed mosque. The goal of ethnic cleansing was not simply to get rid of Muslims; it was to destroy all traces that they had ever lived in Bosnia. The goal was to kill history. If you want to do that, then you must rip out history's heart, which in the case of Bosnia's Muslim community meant the destruction of its mosques. Once that was done, you could reinvent the past in whatever distorted form you wanted, like Frankenstein.

p. 85”
― Peter Maass, Love Thy Neighbor: A Story of War

“In this city, the victors had delusions of grandeur. It was visual. Across the street from the hotel stood City Hall, sporting an oversized Serb flag that hung from the roof to the ground, a hundred feet tall, fifty feet wide, three horizontal stripes of blue, white and red, so large that only a strong breeze could make it flap. The flag, hanging over a building where, fifty years earlier, Kurt Waldheim worked as a lieutenant in the Wehrmacht, was meant as a projection of Serb nationalism, as though size were all that mattered, rather than content. I had never thought of flags as weapons, but in Bosnia, as in the rest of Europe, they were becoming the deadliest weapons of all.

p. 80”
― Peter Maass, Love Thy Neighbor: A Story of War

“I am a lawyer, and for me it is very sad to say that there is now law here. There are weapons rather than law. What did Mao say? Power comes out of the barrel of a gun. It's very true. The situation is decadent. A lot of Serbs think this is leading us nowhere but they feel powerless. How many disagree? I don't know. Perhaps thirty percent disagree, but most of them are frightened and quiet. Perhaps sixty percent agree or are confused enough to go along. They are led by the ten percent who have the guns and who have control of the television towers. That's all they need.'

p. 107”
― Peter Maass, Love Thy Neighbor: A Story of War

“Better to be an honourable man than a minister of state.”
― Milovan Djilas, Rise And Fall

“Once, long ago, there was a world in which we called different languages "ours".”
― Semezdin Mehmedinović, My Heart

“The people were divided into the persecuted and those who persecuted them. That wild beast, which lives in man and does not dare to show itself until the barriers of law and custom have been removed, was now set free. The signal was given, the barriers were down. As has so often happened in the history of man, permission was tacitly granted for acts of violence and plunder, even for murder, if they were carried out in the name of higher interests, according to established rules, and against a limited number of men of a particular type and belief....In a few minutes the business quarter, based on centuries of tradition, was wiped out. It is true that there had always been concealed enmities and jealousies and religious intolerance, coarseness and cruelty, but there had also been courage and fellowship and a feeling for measure and order, which restrained all these instincts within the limits of the supportable and, in the end, calmed them down and submitted them to the general interest of life in common. Men who had been leaders in the commercial quarter for forty years vanished overnight as if they had all died suddenly, together with the habits, customs and institutions which they represented.

p. 11”
― Peter Maass, Love Thy Neighbor: A Story of War

“Moji suborci i ja nismo pravili razliku između ljudi koje smo branili, a ja nisam ni znao tko je Srbin, a tko Hrvat. Nikome od nas to nije bilo važno niti smo o tome pričali. Dok se srpski civili prijavljuju vojsci da su Srbi, usput nas prokazuju, a najgore od svega je to što optužuju bez razloga izmišljajući nebulozne zločine.”
― Vilim Karlović, Preživio sam Vukovar i Ovčaru

“Siempre las mismas caras que le recuerdan la herencia del día anterior, las promesas y las obligaciones, los deseos ceñidos por el orden de las frases conocidas. Afloran las palabras que no quiere pronunciar, pero incluso sin pronunciarlas están ahí, contra su voluntad, no le permiten alejarse, desviarse a una calle lateral, explorar un pasaje umbrío, salir a una plaza desconocida, entrar en otra vida.”
― Dragan Velikić, Bonavia

“Apparently the Yugoslavs compensate for general societal slowness once they get behind the wheel of a vehicle.”
― Surya Green, Once Upon a Yugoslavia: When the American Way Met Tito's Third Way

“Until the war had broken out, there had been some sort of order in the strange and complex mixture of the four disparate peoples crowded into the little valley, all calling themselves Bosnians. They celebrated separate holidays, ate different foods, feasted and fasted on different days, yet all depended on one another, but never admitted it. They had lived amidst an ever present, if dormant, mixture of hatred and love for each other. The Muslims with their Ramadan, the Jews with Passover, the Catholics with Christmas, and the Serbs with their Slavas- each of them tacitly tolerated and recognised the customs and existence of others. With suckling pigs turned on spits in Serbian houses, giving off a mouth-watering fragrance, kosher food would be eaten in Jewish homes, and in Muslim households, meals were cooked in suet. There was a certain harmony in all this, even if there was no actual mixing. The aromas had long ago adjusted to one another and had given the city its distinctive flavor. Everything was "as God willed it." But it was necessary to remove only one piece of that carefully balanced mosaic and that whole picture would fall into its component parts which would then, rejoined in an unthinkable manner, create hostile and incompatible entities. ‏Like a hammer, the war had knocked out one piece, disrupting the equilibrium.”
― Gordana Kuić, Miris kiše na Balkanu

“Kad smo bili mladi, učili su nas o bratstvu i jedinstvu. Verovali smo u to i ponašali se u skladu sa time. Kasnije je trebalo da naučimo da mrzimo jedni druge. Ali, to nismo uspeli. Naš identitet iz mladosti ubijen je u jednom trenutku početkom devedestih.”
― Ljubiša Rajić, Dagbok fra Beograd

“Странно е, че всички грешки свършват еднакво, че винаги ги повтаряме и продължаваме с нови надежди. Цяла нощ хапем устни, хълцаме във възглавницата с безпомощен гняв и твърдо се заклеваме да останем самотни, а щом съмне, поднасяме душата си като нежен балон от цъфнало глухарче на насрещните ветрове на живота и те го ронят и разнасят. Ала който спаси само едно малко пухче и го внесе на завет, той е спасил цялата си душа. Това е горчива работа, но който не обръща нежното цвете на душата си към ветровете на изпитанията, дори цялото да го спаси и да го пренесе докрай, той не може да почувства, че изобщо някога го е имал.”
― Ivo Andrić, Ex Ponto, Nemiri, Lirika

“I suggest that I sleep on the cot. “Not open to discussion,�� declares Svetlana in a friendly but firm tone. “We Yugoslavs are a hardy people. I myself can sleep on the floor if required. We are Yugoslavs. We are tough.�� Her casual remark, certainly not intended to hurt me, inflicts a wound. I see I have much to learn about being flexible and adaptable.”
― Surya Green, Once Upon a Yugoslavia: When the American Way Met Tito's Third Way

“Nie ma miłosierdzia, nie ma współczucia, jest tylko zapomnienie. I tylko poniżenie i ból stanowią gwarancję trwałej pamięci. Nauczyliśmy się tego w kraju, z którego przybyliśmy, i tej wiedzy nie da się zapomnieć. Krzyk i szloch to dźwięki, które słyszymy, podniecają nas jak dzwonek psy Pawłowa, na resztę jesteśmy głusi. Zapach strachu wychwytujemy bezbłędnie, on najbardziej drażni nasze nozdrza.”
― Dubravka Ugrešić, The Ministry of Pain

“Jednakże historia łączenia i dostosowywania do siebie językowych wariantów była nie tylko o wiele dłuższa, ale i bardziej sensowna od krótkiej historii ich rozwodu. Podobnie jak historia budowania mostów i dróg była o wiele dłuższa i bardziej sensowna od krótkiej historii ich burzenia.”
― Dubravka Ugrešić, The Ministry of Pain

“Przyszedł czas surowej zapłaty za powszechne nieszczęście, odpłacano, komu się dało, najczęściej niewinnym.”
― Dubravka Ugrešić, The Ministry of Pain

“Dlatego mam wrażenie, że dopiero tutaj uczę się mówić. Nie przychodzi mi to łatwo, co chwila szukam miejsca na oddech, bylebym tylko nie musiała się zmierzyć z faktem, że nie jestem w stanie wyrazić tego, co mam do powiedzenia; byle tylko nie stanąć przed pytaniem, czy w języku, który nie nauczył się opisywać rzeczywistości, jakkolwiek złożone wydawałoby się jej wewnętrzne przeżywanie, czy w takim języku można zrobić cokolwiek, opowiedzieć historię na przykład.”
― Dubravka Ugrešić, The Ministry of Pain

“Until the war had broken out, there had been some sort of order in the strange and complex mixture of the four disparate peoples crowded into the little valley, all calling themselves Bosnians. They celebrated separate holidays, ate different foods, feasted and fasted on different days, yet all depended on one another, but never admitted it. They had lived amidst an ever present, if dormant, mixture of hatred and love for each other. The Muslims with their Ramadan, the Jews with Passover, the Catholics with Christmas, and the Serbs with their Slavas- each of them tacitly tolerated and recognised the customs and existence of others. With suckling pigs turned on spits in Serbian houses, giving off a mouth-watering fragrance, kosher food would be eaten in Jewish homes, and in Muslim households, meals were cooked in suet. There was a certain harmony in all this, even if there was no actual mixing. The aromas had long ago adjusted to one another and had given the city its distinctive flavor. Everything was "as God willed it." But it was necessary to remove only one piece of that carefully balanced mosaic and that whole picture would fall into its component parts which would then, rejoined in an unthinkable manner, create hostile and incompatible entities. ‏Like a hammer, the war had knocked out one piece, disrupting the equilibrium. Wartime turned differences into outright hatred and instead of blaming the foreign enemy for all their hardships, people blamed their nearest neighbours, which, in turn, represented an invaluable favour to the true enemy of all.”
― Gordana Kuić, Miris kiše na Balkanu

“Ипак је руља највише уживала у пастирском року Горана Бреговића. Он је успио да преведе музику „Ле�� Цепелина�� на пастирски језик.”
― Emir Kusturica, Smrt je neprovjerena glasina

“Zoki walks into the classroom, puts a piece of paper down on the teacher’s desk, and shouts: “Everyone write your name.��
There are three columns: Muslim / Serb / Croat.
We all gather round, we all hesitate.
“Come on, guys.�� Zoki writes his name under Serb.
Kenan takes the pen from Zoki and writes his name under Muslim.
Both Gorans put their names under Serb.
Edin puts his name under Muslim.
Alen puts his name under Muslim.
Marica puts her name under Serb.
Goca puts her name under Serb.
Kule asks what this is all about.
Zoki says: “So we know.��
Kule says: “Fuck you.��
Zoki says: “Anyway, you’re Muslim.��
“What I am is Fuck you,�� Kule says.
Elvira makes a new column, writes Don’t know at the top, and puts her name there. Alen takes the pen back and crosses his name out and writes it again under Don’t know. Goca too.
Marko puts his name under Serb.
Ana puts her name under Don’t know, thinks for a second, crosses it out, adds Yugoslav as a fifth heading, and puts her name there.
Zoki writes Kule under Muslim.
Kule says: “Zoki, you dumb horse, I’ll fuck your mother.��
The Gorans plant themselves in front of Kule and the one with the long incisors says: “What’s wrong, Kule? Shoes too tight?��
Kule grabs the pen out of Zoki’s hand and tries to scribble something on Goran’s forehead. Goran shoves him, Kule shoves back, and we move between them.
Everyone’s shouting all at once until Kule raises his arm—the gesture says, Everything’s cool, I’m cool. He goes up to the desk and makes a sixth column. On top it says, Fuck all of you. Kule writes Kule in that column, stomps on the pen, which breaks, and leaves the classroom.
No one follows Kule. The list disappears.
A couple months later, Muslims in several cities are ordered to wear white armbands.
An Eskimo family lived in Višegrad at the time, above the supermarket on Tito Street. Actually they had no connection with the Inuit—it was just a joke answer on the 1991 census, which was included in the actual statistics and then recognized by the state. The father repeated it during the Serbian occupation, but no one laughed. So he left the city, with his wife and baby daughter. Today they live closer to the North Pole and speak decent Swedish.”
― Saša Stanišić, Herkunft

“Serbian Nationalism and the Origins of the Yugoslav Crisis, Peaceworks No. 8, United States Institute of Peace, 1996 by Vesna Pesic

The sheer complexity of the former Yugoslavia's current crisis has supported numerous interpretations of its origins. One explanation that has acquired a certain currency is "nationalism as a power game," which views the main cause of the Yugoslav crisis as an ideology (in the sense of "false consciousness") of "aggressive nationalism," perpetuated by members of the old nomenklatura who seek to preserve their threatened positions of power in the face of democratic change. ��

The problem with this approach is that it treats the "national question" as an epiphenomenon of the struggle to preserve power and privilege. In doing so, it forgets that political battles in Yugoslavia have almost always developed around the "national question." Such an understanding of nationalism as "false consciousness" discounts the power of national sentiment among the region's ethnic groups. ��

By its very nature, Yugoslavia has never had a staatsvolk ("state-people") that could "naturally" dominate by its numbers and serve as the foundation on which a modern nation-state could be built. (As members of the most populous national group, Serbs constituted only 40 percent of the total Yugoslav population.) ��

An aggressive Serbian nationalism broke the thin thread holding together Yugoslavia's nations in a compromise arrangement, pushing toward an extreme solution of its national question through threats and warmongering: Either Yugoslavia's various nations would accept Serbia's vision of a "normal," unified state that served Serbian interests, or Serbs from all the republics would "join together" and achieve their national unity by force.”
― Vesna Pešić

“Instead he began moving slowly toward the people who were waiting in line to buy tickets for the New World. 'New Belgrade?' asked the man at the bus station counter and the commander had to gently but confidently repeat: 'The New World'. 'I don't see much difference there,' said the man...”
― David Albahari, Checkpoint

“And while he mused over the last few weeks, the thought kept bothering him that, without his knowledge, of course, the whole company had been part of a cruel experiment, and they were sacrificed so insights on the structure of warfare could be gathered, which, in other words, meant that no one was to blame for what happened to the soldiers and commander... an army bureaucrat had had the bright idea that the time was ripe for a study of the impact on soldiers of a sudden shift in the enemy's standing (in other words, when friend becomes foe, or vice versa). What happened presumed not a reality-based result--the outcome of earlier events in this same reality--but instead a faux reality, .a strategy game like Battleship...”
― David Albahari, Checkpoint

“Some people have said that "Titoism is a communism with a human face." I would rather define it as a "milder communism." In some circumstances the face of that communism, sometimes called "Titoism," wasn't exactly human; it embittered the lives of many people. However, the circle of freedom had expanded: From Satellite No. 1, we had become the most liberal communist country, but still communist. The standard of living increased, faster than in the countries of the Soviet Bloc, although much slower than in the world of economic freedom and liberal democracy. When we dissatisfied Yugoslav citizens wanted a little consolation, we only had to glance across the border to Bulgaria, Romania, and Hungary, where until the end of the 190s "Yugoslavia" was an unachievable dream... On the other hand, if we needed a reality check, we only had to glance across the border at Austria or Italy. For more than thirty years we enjoyed the privilege of freedom of movement to the East and to the West. In the world of communist tyranny--to which in some degree we belonged--we were still an exception, the only communist country outside the iron curtain, outside the collective prison of a billion and a half people, a country in the slippery area of prescribed freedoms in which so much was permitted, but in which it was dangerous to seek freedom without a prescription.”
― Slavko Goldstein, 1941: The Year That Keeps Returning

“the citizen of a ruin”
― David Williams

“A language is a dialect backed by an army.”
― Dubravka Ugrešić, The Ministry of Pain