"The soldier with the yamulka is not vague. At least his gun is very shiny. His gun is my personal history. It is the history of my estrangement. His gun took from us the land of our poem. And left us with the poem of the land. In his hand he holds earth, and in our hands we hold a mirage."
"In our country, our life was good. We had herds and money. We used to sew seeds in our country, grow plants and harvest them. Our life was good. We were taken by surprise when Israel came upon us. We said, Will we give it up? Our life was good, our country was good [healthy], and so were our children. We sowed and we harvested. Our land was in an oasis, Tell Arad, far. We lived well. We were satisfied... We sowed, we harvested, we ate, and it was good. We had herds. We milked them and took the milk and used it. We lived the best of lives." (Hajji Turfa
, Jahilin camp, West Bank, June 16, 1998).