"... I live and breathe my city — its mists, roars, ocean, hills, sand dunes, the brooding of San Francisco, on whose land I walk in the mornings and evenings — the city of my meetings and partings, where my home, books and phonograph Yes, I love this city, and its unsightliness is dear to my heart. My truth is that I'm not a writer at all and I don't want to be a writer. I'm not trying to say anything.... I don't have to try. I'm talking about what hurt . And I never use a dictionary, I never invent anything . All the prose of the world is still out of books and out of language, and all I have to do is walk around the city and look at both... " Translation: Aram Ohanyan