Dreams Fulfilled Are Imperfect.

Out There, In The World, All The Walls Were Covered With Graffiti: "yids, Go Back To Palestine," So We Came Back To Palestine, And Now The Worldatlarge Shouts At Us: "yids, Get Out Of Palestine."

The Place Of My Novels Is Israel, Almost Without Exception. All Of Them Take Place In Israel - In Jerusalem, In The Desert, In The Kibbutz, In Small Towns, In Villages.

… That Sour Blend Of Loneliness And Lust For Recognition, Shyness And Extravagance, Deep Insecurity And Self-intoxicated Egomania, That Drives Poets And Writers Out Of Their Rooms To Seek Each Other Out, To Rub Shoulders With One Another, Bully, Joke, Condescend, Feel Each Other, Lay A Hand On A Shoulder Or An Arm Round A Waist, To Chat And Argue With Little Nudges, To Spy A Little, Sniff Out What Is Cooking In Other Pots, Flatter, Disagree, Collude, Be Right, Take Offence, Apologise, Make Amends, Avoid Each Other, And Seek Each Other’s Company Again.

I'm A Great Believer In Compromises. I Do Not Believe In Capitulation.

Sometimes, Recently Israeli-palestinian Conflict Is Indeed A Clash Between Wrong And Wrong. It Is Not As Simple As Fascism Was. Every Decent Man Had To Be Against Fascism, Period. It Is Not As Simple As Apartheid Or Colonialism Or Racism Or Misogyny. It Is Not Simple Because The Palestinians Have No Other Land. They Are Absolutely Right About This. The Israeli Jews Also Have No Other Land And They Are Absolutely Right About This. It Is A Tragedy Of Two Peoples Claiming The Same Very Small Country, About The Size Of New Jersey.