"Even after they arrested him and burned all of his manuscripts, which were all blank pages, he refused to speak. Not even to groan when they gave him a blow to the head, a boot tip in the groin. Only, at the last possible moment, as he faced the firing squad, did the writer suddenly sense the possibility of his error. As the rifles were pointed at his chest he wondered if what he had taken for the richness of silence was really the poverty of never being heard. He had thought the possibilities of human silence were endless. But as the bullets tore from the rifle, his body was riddled with the truth. And a small part of him laughed bitterly, because, anyway, how could he have forgotten what he had always known. There's no match for the silence of God."
from THE HISTORY OF LOVE
By Nicole Krauss
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