I am not an entertainer. I do not care whether you are entertained by my writing. I am presenting ideas.

The greatest horror of the Holocaust is that it will be repeated.

. . . on larger and larger scales, for as long as humans exist.

Life hasn’t even begun yet. Everything that came before: nothing to what is yet to come.

I’d like to support those kinds of books, the kind that could never be popular, the kind that cut you when you pick them up.

The wine glass slid off the bar and onto the floor and shattered. I could only look at it. Another broken glass. How many glasses had I broken in my life?

Whatever you think is so great, isn’t.

Whatever else we are, we are petty little bastards, and we will forever hopelessly be that way.

I am not a part of a country, I am a part of humanity. I do not care about the fate of the United States or Mongolia or any other ephemeral nation, culture, group. My aspirations are for all of humanity.