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But my Arabic is pretty good. It's good enough to have conversations with people, to understand what they say, to understand what they're feeling.

I don't know Arabic. I can't speak or write it.

Being published in Arabic is a strong and consistent wish I have. I live in the Middle East and want to be in some sort of an unpragmatic dialogue with my neighbors.

I had this desire to understand Islam better and then focus on the beauty of Arabic and Islamic cultures. And one of the first things to emerge was Arabic calligraphy, which was instantly inspiring.

Whenever I come across an Arabic word mired in English text, I am momentarily shocked out of the narrative.

The fact of simultaneously being Christian and having as my mother tongue Arabic, the holy language of Islam, is one of the basic paradoxes that have shaped my identity.

If I were to pray in Arabic, I'd pray to Allah. If I were to pray in English, I'd pray to God.

I've got Arabic music in my blood.

I'm shy, but sometimes my voice is so clear and strong. Your tongue moves, and the Arabic language is so beautiful.

I do not use the language of my people. I can take liberties with certain themes which the Arabic language would not allow me to take.