“There will be peace in the Middle East only when the Arabs love their children more than they hate Israel.”

The only alternative to war is peace and the only road to peace is negotiations.

Whether women are better than men I cannot say – but I can say they are certainly no worse.

There is only one thing I hope to see before I die, and that is that my people should not need expressions of sympathy anymore.

It isn’t enough to believe in something; you have to have the stamina to meet obstacles and overcome them, to struggle.

It is not a sin to be seventy but it is also no joke.

We Jews have a secret weapon in our struggle with the Arabs; we have no place to go.

Not being beautiful was the true blessing. Not being beautiful forced me to develop my inner resources. The pretty girl has a handicap to overcome.

Fashion is an imposition, a reign on freedom.

It is true we have won all our wars, but we have paid for them. We don’t want victories anymore.

Zionism and pessimism are not compatible.

Can we today measure devotion to husband and children by our indifference to everything else?

We only want that which is given naturally to all peoples of the world, to be masters of our own fate, not of others, and in cooperation and friendship with others.

Every civilization finds it necessary to negotiate compromises with its own values.

There was no such thing as Palestinians, they never existed.

Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life.

One cannot and must not try to erase the past merely because it does not fit the present.

Grief is a species of idleness.

My goal should never be to raise kids that make me look good. (Oh but how my flesh craves this!) My goal should be to raise kids who love God and spend their lives making His goodness known in their corner of the world.

My goal is not to shove information into your head. It’s to find ways to reignite the curiosity that we all had as children for the natural world. You don’t have to tell a child to explore the backyard.

To understand just one life you have to swallow the world do you wonder, then, that I was a heavy child?

Poverty’s child – he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.

A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It’s only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate.

Women are the centre of the family. It’s the woman who decides what’s eaten in the house, when to have the kids vaccinated; everything that has to do with the children’s health revolves around her.

I have a woman’s body and a child’s emotions.