"We also have a fundamental right to not carry a pain that we did not choose. Whether you’re born black or gay or a woman or Jewish, you didn’t choose it. You have to be the person in charge of it saying your story, again and again. When it is something you are forced to recount, there’s something violent about it…"

“I want to be a writer of violence…I think the more you talk about violence, the more you can undo violence…”

“Even if I hated my childhood, I am nostalgic for it. How can it be possible? Probably because the past is—in a way—settled. I think that childhood is a moment where the world is growing every day. Every day the world is bigger, reality is bigger, reality is deeper. When you become an adult, everything shrinks. You realize that the world is smaller and smaller, and people's minds are not as big as you thought.”

“Since the rape, it has felt like I’ve faced an unimaginable battering – first in going to the police, being in front of officers who don’t understand you. Then when you say it publicly, there are people who don’t believe you, who mock you. Or there are people who believe it but say it’s your own fault. Before this, I had heard a lot of women talking about the fact they weren’t believed. And when History of Violence was published, I realised the full extent of what those women had gone through.”