Marcela reads from Nobel Prize winner S.Y. Agnon’s story “The Father of the Ox,” about the origins of Abu Tor in Jerusalem.

Author and poet Hagit Grossman’s collection contains intimate portraits of city inhabitants, particularly women.

Marcela reads work by Raquel Chalfi, noting her work’s effortless infusion of objects with motion and contrast between the ephemeral and eternal.

“Jewish rule in the land of Palestine is a guardianship state…” Marcela reads a controversial essay by Iranian writer Jalal Al-e Ahmad.

“If she saw me now she would certainly say in her thick Moroccan accent, ‘Miriam, you are in a black mood,’ rhythmically, with penultimate stresses, as one who understands a thing or two, though it would be according to her experience of life repeating itself, obviously containing schematic human feelings of joy, sadness, insult and black moods.”

“At this point I observed the first example of that amazing phenomenon that was to occur again and again until I finally met my friends from outer space. For the further the woman and child went from where we were, the governor standing and I in the jeep, the taller they grew.”

“The gaze returns to the pictures: what shades over the houses? Where does the sun shine? Outside the picture? Does a sun burn in our inquiring forehead? In our single eye? Is the shadow that falls over everything our own? Is the sun sinking? The sun is sinking.”

“I like the smell of the fig, but the buzzing of the little gnats drawn to its fruits disturbs my sleep. There is nothing bad without some good in it, my aunt always says, and no good without bad.”

“Whenever it’s possible to go out, I take care to look at the clouds, for their color doesn’t have a name I should remember, for they don’t care who commits what down there.”

“Keep two thoughts before your eyes; all your pain will go away: First, God’s shadow will protect you whether you depart or stay.”