Quotes from Dorit Rabinyan

At last, the luminous match was struck and the day was lit.

That night Flora wanted to eat watermelon.

How difficult it will be not to fall in love with him. How impossible, I thought worriedly, how tricky, to insist on not falling in love, to make my heart forget this strange, gentle man and this exciting night, to not get swept away. On the brink of sleep, enveloped in his breath, I thought how dangerous and complicated it would be, and how if I wasn't careful I might fall in love with him right at that very moment.

I struggle again to draw this man's face in a crowd of faces: which dog-eared lines and frayed adjectives do I use? How do I sketch his visage, the way he looked to me then, at first sight, still mysterious? Among countless pairs of brown eyes, how to distinguish those two soft, open, wise ones, their gaze alert but slightly awkward, marveling? How to outline the lips, nose, brows, chin, so that I can see them afresh, as simple as a portrait on a cafe napkin?