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“Besides, sometimes it’s inevitable for the past to be forgotten, especially if the present is no less horrific;”
― Adania Shibli, Minor Detail

“I close my eyes and try to breathe but the end of the world is in my throat.”
― Anne de Marcken, It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over

“Yet ... what if the last gift of light is the sight of something that belongs to naught but the night? What if death is more merciful than the appearance of whatever should come for our flesh?”
― José Luis Zárate, The Route of Ice and Salt

“ASSIMILATION We never unpacked, dreaming in the wrong language, carrying our mother’s fears in our feetâ€� if he raises his voice we will flee if he looks bored we will pack our bags unable to excise the refugee from our hearts, unable to sleep through the night. The refugee’s heart has six chambers. In the first is your mother’s unpacked suitcase. In the second, your father cries into his hands. The third room is an immigration office, your severed legs in the fourth, in the fifth a uterus—yours? The sixth opens with the right papers. I can’t get the refugee out of my body, I bolt my body whenever I get the chance. How many pills does it take to fall asleep? How many to meet the dead? The refugee’s heart often grows an outer layer. An assimilation. It cocoons the organ. Those unable to grow the extra skin die within the first six months in a host country. At each and every checkpoint the refugee is asked are you human? The refugee is sure it’s still human but worries that overnight, while it slept, there may have been a change in classification.”
― Warsan Shire, Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: Poems