When I die, my suitcase will remain somewhere, closed, undiscovered, waiting for someone to adopt it… my home will remain unfinished until someone dives into it and reconstruct it over and over again…When I die, I will carry with me all the fragments of the moments I have collected… all the images…all the sounds…all the faces… all the memories… then I will spit them out to haves less load on my shoulders and less dust on my eyelids…”

Yara Bou Nassar