Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself. — Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
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Today the grass listens when I speak of love. It seems to me that this word isn't honest even with itself.

— Herta Müller, The Land of Green Plums
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