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“وتسأل: ما معنى كلمة وطن؟
سيقولون:هو البيت،وشجرة التوت ،وقن الدجاج،وقفير النحل،ورائحة الخبزو السماء الأولى.
وتسأل: هل تتسع كلمة واحدةمن ثلاثة أحرف لكل هذه المحتويات،وتضيق بنا؟”
― محمود درويش, في حضرة الغياب

“You know those days when you've got the means reds?��
‘Same as the blues?��
‘No,�� she said slowly. ‘No, the blues are because you’re getting fat or maybe it’s been raining too long. You’re sad that’s all. But the mean reds are horrible. You’re afraid, and you sweat like hell, but you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don’t know what it is. You’ve had that feeling?��
‘Quite often. Some people call it angst.��
‘All right. Angst. But what do you do about it?��
‘Well, a drink helps.��
‘I’ve tried that. I’ve tried aspirin, too. Rusty thinks I should smoke marijuana, and I did for a while, but it only makes me giggle. What I’ve found does the most good is to just get into a taxi and go to Tiffany’s. It calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets. If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s, then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name.”
― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Three Stories

“There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry.”
― Sarah Kay

“الكتابة فعل أناني وطارد
يفرض درجة من العزلة الداخلية، ينفيك عمن حولك أو ينفي من حولك ويضعهم على الرف إلى حين
فعل ينفي الآخرين ليخاطبهم ويكتب حكاياتهم، يقصيهم ليراهم أكثر
يبتعد ليقترب، ويعزلك ليتيح لك تبديد وجودك المفرد وإذابته في وجودهم ومكانهم وزمانهم
عجيب !”
― رضوى عاشور, أثقل من رضوى: مقاطع من سيرة ذاتية